Night Vision
by Beth Weasley
Summary: Some left for dead, some on the run, Riddick's Pack has been split up. And separating mated Furyans is never a good idea.
1. Chapter 1

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter One**

More'n likely, th' screech is what rouses me. I'm groggy, prob'ly concussed, an' th' bits of rock pressin' against me from all sides ain't helpin'. Only thing that ain't buried is my right hand. Then I feel tiny vibrations through th' debris; something's landed an' hops closer. I let it nip at me a couple times before grabbin' its neck an' squeezin' 'til it stops movin'.

Dunno how many times I've been crossed off th' list an' left for dead. Guess when it first happens th' day you were born, you're gonna lose count. So this… this ain't nothin' new.

I dig myself out, an' one glance tells me that my left leg's badly broken, tibia an' fibula both. Gotta set it soon, before th' pain gets in deep an' tightens up th' muscles too much. But first, I need t' find some water. So, usin' my hands an' my right knee, I scoot towards what looks like risin' water vapor. It is, an' I get my hands full, but stop before th' liquid touches my lips. Smells strongly of minerals, especially sulfur, an' it's hot; some sorta volcanic activity below me, makin' th' shit dangerous t' drink.

Damn it. Can't help but slap th' pool's surface in frustration before I drag myself toward somethin' t' guard my back while I rest a minute.

A distant noise, like a howl, signals th' end of my break. So now it's time t' realign th' bum leg. Lookin' around, I spot a cleft boulder that looks wide enough t' wedge my foot into. I clear some fist-sized stones out first, then get my boot stuck down in it. Yankin' up on my knee hurts like a sonuvabitch, an' I can't quite stifle my yelp. Th' fact that yips respond has me on edge.

Shapes are silhouetted on a distant hillside when I raise my damaged shades t' look, like leggy dogs with weird-ass ears. Four of 'em, that head toward me at a run. I scuttle backwards, hopin' I can make it back t' that water before they reach me. An' it's a near thing— three of 'em stare at me while I let th' Necro armor's weight drag me deeper. Eel things emerge t' check me out, but a wave of my hand tells 'em I ain't food. One still wiggles under an' through what's left of th' chestplate. Th' dog things don't leave, so I concentrate, makin' my heartrate slow almost t' nothin'. Seems t' work, too.

Still, I'm wary when I come up. Every cut an' abrasion burns, but they're prob'ly disinfected. Coast looks clear, an' I sprawl on th' ground t' catch my breath. A too-close growl reminds me that I saw _four_ of th' locals in th' distance, but only _three_ at th' pool. Once again, I scramble, this time t' put stone at my back as th' critter charges me. A couple of kicks, then it clamps down on one of my metal bracers, givin' me a moment t' look it over. Big damn dog, its coat irregular stripes of black an' brown. Has a dark, shaggy ruff, too; lean like a greyhound, but about th' same height as th' spine-cats an' scale-wolves Eileen an' I liberated from Crematoria.

Th' dog-thing pulls th' bracer off an' flings it aside, an' now my kicks ain't nearly as effective as when th' fight started, so I feel around an' come up with a bone. It _definitely_ don't like gettin' smacked on th' nose with that, an' backs off once it manages t' get rid of th' impromptu weapon. Long enough for me t' get vertical, an' as a last resort, I pop a disc off my armor that looks decorative but also has concealed razor edges.

Ain't th' best thing t' use for a last-ditch defense like this, but I'll take whatever I can get. Light reflectin' off it seems t' snare th' critter's attention, though, an' _that_ gives me options. I flash it again, then hurl it like a discus. Th' dog-thing watches where it goes, looks back at me an' whines, then sprints after its new play-toy. I collapse, landin' on my ass once again, exhausted. Still can't rest.

Removin' th' greave from my right leg requires tearin' through the' straps that secure it. Got th' two hinge pins, though. So, once th' metal's lined up t' splint th' bones, I carefully shove th' spikes through th' trim leather above an' below th' break. It makes me light-headed, another sign that I need clean water t' drink soon.

At least I have th' shades my woman got for me all those years ago. Strap's broken, but they're intact, otherwise. I catch my breath an' look around before tryin' t' get up. Can see a line of sheer cliffs in th' distance. A pair of natural pillars frame a barely-visible break in th' wall. It's as good a place t' start lookin' for potable water as any other.

Even set an' splinted, th' leg's slowin' me down, makin' me limp. Don't feel eyes on me, though; maybe th' locals decided t' back off for a bit. Once I'm closer t' th' cliffs, I do another visual examination with my specs on. There's a plume of spray comin' off th' left wall of th' gap. I speed up, 'cause now I'm feelin' hot an' sticky as well as thirsty.

There're muddy pools all through th' tiny break in th' cliffs, prob'ly kept wet by th' source of th' waterfall. A basin's been worn or carved into a stone at waist height an' collects plenty of th' cold, fresh stuff for me t' drink my fill an' get rid of most of th' grime I've managed t' collect.

I'm standin' under th' cascade, coolin' down, when I hear th' yips again. Flattenin' myself against rock, I look around for possible escape routes. Th' best-lookin' one is a _very_ narrow canyon, with layers of stone makin' a rough stairway. It's over on th' far side of th' biggest mud-puddle.

But as it turns out, th' dog-things ain't sniffin' after me in particular. Nah, there's some ugly fucks hidin' in th' muddy water. Animals that do a snake-like hiss-an'-sway routine t' mesmerize a dog that gets close t' th' edge. Then _wham!_ A two-legged body bursts outta th' muck, fangs sinkin' into th' hindquarters of its victim. Fucker obviously has venom, 'cause th' dog don't put up much fight before collapsin' with a whimper an' goin' dead still.

An' then I hear a louder, deeper hiss from behind me— from th' big mudhole. _Shit._ I barely manage t' roll away an' get a nearby legbone between th' jaws before it can get its teeth into _me_. Th' moment I have room t' get away, I do, but th' bug don't come outta its hole after me. It tosses th' bone away an' crawls back into its watery lair.

That was too damned close.

There are bad days, an' then there are _legendary_ bad days. This's shapin' up t' be one of th' legendary type. Whole damn planet wants a piece of me. Can't stay in th' open, can't risk another attack. Especially not with this leg. I manage t' find a cave of sorts in th' cliff wall. There were people here once; th' stone's definitely been worked, an' dark-colored line drawings made on th' walls. Drawings that look an awful lot like those mudbugs attackin' armed folks. Th' upright stone slab in th' middle of th' cave is balanced just right for me t' knock it over so that it helps cover up a too-neat pit. An' th' stone breakin' th' way it does will make a good 'door' for this hidey-hole t' keep things out while I heal up.

It's always th' punch ya don't see comin' that puts ya down. But why didn't I see it? Why didn't _we_ see it? Of _course_ they were gonna try t' kill us. Death is what they do for a livin'. So th' question ain't "What happened?"

Th' question is "What happened t' us?"

How did they get so close? How did we let 'em blindside us like that? Necromongers. _Pfft._ Some wanted t' put a crown on my head. Some wanted t' put a noose around my neck. Okay, yeah, more nooses than crowns. But me, th' girls, Niklas, th' scale-wolves an' spine-cats, we were watchin' each other's backs. Weird as it was, I knew that _Niklas_ could be trusted not t' turn on us. He'd kinda become part of the Pack, in all honesty.

We'd needed a way out. Some new place. Or, maybe, just an old one. But Niklas can't navigate for shit. Says he's been back an' forth enough, an' enough worlds are dead, that he's not sure which way t' look anymore. On th' plus side, he told us why th' Necros would want us outta th' way. But how do you find somewhere you've never seen?

(Much Earlier)

"They'll never let you stand at the Threshold of their Underverse unless you embrace their twisted 'faith'." Ev'ry time th' subject of th' Necros' religion comes up, th' blond man looks like he wants t' spit. "That's why the assassins keep coming after us. They view us as something wrong, cursed." Niklas turns t' face th' viewport, an' one of th' spine-cats noses its way under his hand for a scratch. "Illegitimate."

"What're ya gonna do when you're born that way?" I ask.

"Lord Fergan and Lady Arella had been properly mated for several years before you came along," he starts t' protest hotly. Then he turns an' sees Jack smotherin' laughter. He glares daggers at me; it's not th' first time I've yanked his chain on this subject.

At least I know my parents' names now, an' that I was wanted by 'em. An' Eileen knows about hers, too. She ain't aware of how well Jack an' I can see that knowin' more about her kin makes her feel secure in her own skin, an' I ain't about t' enlighten her.

Somethin' makes a noise outside th' rooms we've been all but shoved into. I don't need Niklas' suddenly stiff posture t' tell me something's not right. Couple of steps takes me t' th' doors, an' a swipe of my hand clears enough t' show that our 'honor guard' is still where they should be.

 _~What th'—~_ My side burns suddenly, an' I turn my head t' find th' cleanin' girl stickin' a blade into me. She's miscalculated her aim, though.

"Shoulda gone between th' fourth an' fifth ribs if ya wanted his heart," Jack quips, grabbin' a handful of sweet dates an' poppin' one into her mouth. "Add a little twist at th' end, if ya wanna make sure." Th' Necro girl's eyes go wide as she looks up at me.

"Fifth an' sixth…" I grab her hand so tight around th' knife that her faces screws up in pain while I pull th' metal outta my flesh.

"Body cavity," Eileen finishes, havin' snuck up behind th' sorry little bitch. She holds th' girl while I gut her on her own sorry-ass weapon.

When Commander Vaako shows up a few minutes later— followed by th' ugly sonuvabitch who's always on his heels lately— I'm sittin' in th' fancy-ass throne they stuck in here with us, actin' like I'm examinin' th' date now decoratin' th' Necro girl's little spike. Jack's sprawled across th' too-fuckin'-big bed on her stomach, kickin' her heels in th' air, an' Eileen's 'lounging' against th' viewport frame near Niklas.

"Making new friends, I see." Th' First Among Commanders toes th' coolin' corpse.

"Who put her up t' it?" With Vaako, at least, I can ask a straight question an' get an almost-straight answer back. "Which commander?"

"It could be any of many."

"We don't doubt that for a second… _Commander_ Vaako," my lover purrs, injectin' fake suspicion into her voice as she stresses his rank. She knows as well as I do that he's th' only true Necro we can even halfway trust— Niklas don't count. We've learned that much, at least, in th' year we've been here.

"Milady?"

"They say ya lost your nerve, Vaako, after that big swing an' a miss." Somehow, Jack knows just how t' needle him. Might be th' month he spent tryin' t' talk her into convertin'.

"Is that what they say?" Okay, yeah, he's a cool customer.

"Now what're ya gonna do t' get that cred back?" I ask, slowly standin' an' joinin' my mate. I can smell Vaako's surprise when he sees th' blood on the padded chair back. "What's th' big play? Somethin' splashy?"

"Actually…" He pauses before steppin' past th' throne. "I had in mind something different. I've been thinking about an early campaign, my very first. I was but a boy." How interestin'. This happens, an' suddenly he decides t' open up. "We dropped from the sky and did what Necromongers do. The destruction was breathtaking. But then… we met resistance."

Eileen cocks her head t' indicate that at least one of us is payin' attention, though we all are.

"Furious, like a storm of lions. Each one of them killed over a hundred Necro before their weapons failed." Niklas' scent goes hard an' cold. "And then they killed another thirty more, barehanded." Vaako steps even closer. "Our firepower and strength in numbers eventually won us the day. I can still see him, the last of those magnificent warriors, standing on a pile of his own. He looked at me, and I will never forget those eyes." He pauses, an' I turn t' face him. "His eyes were just like yours. The planet was Furya."

"We _know_ what it's called." Dunno why I'm suddenly snarlin' mad at him.

"You just don't know where it is."

"We need maps, charts." Eileen's soundin' pissy, too.

"Impossible."

"I **_need_** a direction." My growl draws him up short.

"Purged from all records, as you well know." Yes, we'd checked. All four of us had spent hours goin' through th' Necro archives. Furya was th' only world never mentioned in 'em.

"But _you_ know where." There's my girl's menacin' purr again.

"So many worlds…" Smellin' a very faint bit of deceit, my hand with th' spike whips it out t' lay against Vaako's throat. His chin goes up slightly, an' a slow fire sparks in those cold eyes. "The only map left in existence is the one that's in _my_ head, Riddick!" he snaps.

"So whaddya want? Th' crown?" Jack's on her feet now, stalkin' silently closer. But th' commander twitches a hand at his new flunky.

"Transcendence," he whispers before raisin' his voice again. "Krone, break off a ship. Riddick's going home."

'Transcendence.' Guess that's Necro-speak for 'Get th' fuck off our ship an' make it forever.' Fine by us. Can't blame him for danglin' Furya. Home has a certain… equity, even when ya don't remember it. But I _do_ blame him for what came next.

Shades coverin' my eyes, I get outta th' Necro frigate, steppin' into warm sunlight an' a brisk wind. Krone is waitin' on th' mesa with three grunts. Eileen an' Jack ain't right behind me, for a change; something's jammed on th' kid's armor, an' they're tryin' t' fix it. Vaako wasn't waitin' outside our quarters t' escort us, either. I've gotta bad feelin' 'bout this. Still, could be th' planet my parents called 'home'.

I don't like that we had t' leave Niklas an' th' four-leggers with th' fleet, either. Man's got a point, though—crammin' our friends on a ship th' size of a frigate for a month an' a half, with it packed full of Necros, would make for a lotta dead meat an' nowhere t' put it before it started t' rot. He promised, though, that he'd make Vaako tell him where t' take th' _Den_ when th' commander returns. Said he's got an ace up his sleeve, in case somethin' goes bad.

"It's a long way to come, for this," Krone yells over th' howlin' wind. Don't look like much grows 'round here. I walk toward th' edge. Something's not right. I go t' one knee, scoop up a fistful of gritty soil, an' take a whiff.

Instead of Furya, we've wound up somewhere called 'Not Furya'. Th' grunts start movin', an' I raise my fist, still holdin' th' dirt, in a military signal for 'stop'. My other hand pulls a few throwin' knives where they can't see as I let th' dirt dribble away.

Then somebody takes a shot with their damn grav gun. Fucker can't aim for shit, 'cause he misses me by a klick. I slip 'round t' th' far side of a big rock, settle into myself, then pop back out into th' open, blades flyin' at two grunts. One hits th' mark, plungin' through an eye an' into th' brain. Other's just a little off, at th' join of neck an' shoulder. I ram that Necro, retrievin' th' knife t' sever his spine. Duck t' th' left as a grav blast obliterates his head. I send th' little blade off a second time, catchin' th' last grunt in th' throat. Hafta take shelter behind th' rock again.

Yet again, someone's tryin' t' play me an' my Pack. Fuck only knows what's happenin' t' my girls on that damn frigate, let alone Niklas an' th' four-leggers. So, yet again, we play for blood. I draw my last throwin' knife, reachin' out where Krone'll see it an' gesturin' for him t' come closer.

Fuck-face starts t' obey, then pauses an' backs away. I hear him firin' grav guns at somethin', feel th' rock under an' behind me tremble. Then it seems t' just drop out from under me, an' I go tumblin' after it.

"You keep what you kill, Riddick!" I faintly hear Krone shout as I fall. "You keep what you kill!" After that, there's only pain an' darkness.

(Now)

I wake again, my stomach gnawin' at my spine, an feel for th' broken leg. Must've gone into some sorta healin' trance, 'cause it's not even tender. Explains why I'm starvin'. Don't take much effort t' move th' stone away, less than it took gettin' in. 'Nother sign that my body's fixed itself up while my mind wandered.

An' just like that, a face flashes in my memories; I barely keep myself from reachin' for a hand that ain't physically present. Somehow, I'm sensin' Eileen, wherever she ended up after I got ditched here. She ain't as tightly wrapped as usual, an' it's got something t' do with us bein' apart. It's like bein' able t' touch me, skin t' skin, keeps her sane.

"Don't lose it, babe," I murmur, even though she can't possibly hear me. "Don't you dare let this break ya."

There's one thing I got faith in, one in th' whole 'verse. I believe in my Pack; my woman, her sister, th' man we got out of a livin' hell, an' now th' man who hid among th' enemy for thirty years so he'd be around t' help us. Somehow, they'll manage t' make their way here, t' what I'm callin' 'Not-Furya'.

It may take a while. Hell, for all I know, it could take years. But Eileen an' Jack, at least, _will_ get here.

So it's my responsibility t' survive so they don't make th' trip for nothin'. An' th' first step is t' ensure that I ain't reliant on th' Necro equipment I still got.

Which means I start over with only what I had when I came into th' 'verse. My body, my mind, an' my instincts, th' genetic legacy of Furya. An' when night falls, I climb a palisade of rocks under th' light of a burnin' planetary body, without a stitch on.

Somewhere along th' way, we lost a step. Got sloppy. Dulled our own edge. Maybe we went an' did th' worst crime of all— we got too civilized. So now we zero th' clock. Me, alone, on this no-name world, my girls out there somewhere searchin'.

Gotta find my animal side again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Two**

"Sis, wake up, dammit!" Someone was shaking me into awareness. "Fuck, they've messed up th' dosing on whatever they used t' gas us. C'mon, sis, we gotta get outta here!"

"Wha's goin' on, J—" I began, puzzled by the slurred sound of my speech before a hand covered my mouth.

"Lyra, we're not safe," my adoptive sister hissed into my ear. That startled me into opening my eyes. Bright lights made me slam them shut again.

"Fucking hell."

"Shit's hit th' fan," Kyra agreed sourly. "Somethin' tells me Vaako's not exactly on board with th' opposition's plan, though." I cracked an eyelid just a little and saw her shrug. "Been several hours since I came to, an' th' one Necro who's poked his head in here wasn't one V trusts at all."

Interesting. The only Necromonger I had even the slightest fondness for— Niklas didn't count, since he'd never truly converted— had been careful about which members of the frigate's crew were allowed to approach us without Vaako himself present. The detail that the brunette had noticed could be telling. She didn't have to tell me that the black-haired First Among Commanders _hadn't_ been looking over the other Necro's shoulder.

"An' no sign of Rick?"

"Nope." Again, it was a question for which I'd already known the answer, but I'd asked anyway. "We gotta go, sis, before they get us back t' th' fleet." Where the mastermind of the plot could do damn near whatever they wanted to us.

"Okay, but we've gotta find my shades first."

"You're wearin' 'em," my sister replied, her voice even more troubled. Apparently I'd been affected by the knockout agent in a way she hadn't. Still, she hauled me upright and slung my arm over her shoulders to keep me steady.

"I've already bypassed th' shitty attempt they made at lockin' us in; door's meant t' keep people _out_." I snorted, amused by the contempt in Jack's voice.

Given the teen's innate abilities, I was unsurprised when she helped me into the copilot's seat of the frigate's only shuttle. She'd been one of the youngest people ever, if not _the_ youngest, to qualify for a commercial spacecraft pilot's license, and she had picked up the ability to fly small Necro ships as easily as any other vessel. Moments later, the shuttle slipped silently from its bay and then the frigate's drive field.

Personally, I didn't recognize the stellar neighborhood. Not only had my head started feeling better, but Jack had kept the interior lights as dim as possible while still allowing her to see. However, it looked like we were _way_ off the beaten path.

"I'm runnin' charts for comparison." She glanced at me. "We ain't anywhere _I'm_ familiar with, either."

"An' we don't know where they put Rick." I didn't need the precognitive abilities that, according to Niklas, I had inherited from my mother to know what Jack was thinking. With a sigh, I admitted to myself that searching for my mate was liable to take a long time.

Since the day we met on a planet with three suns and a year-long eclipse, Rick and I had spent very little time physically separated from each other. We'd never tested the connection we had, never saw a reason to do so. How would such great distances interact with the bond between us?

"We'll find him, Eileen." Jack put a hand on my arm, trying to comfort me in an odd role reversal. "No matter what it takes."

A rough tongue against his cheek roused him, and Niklas squinted as he stroked the concerned spine-cat. From the bitter aftertaste and the dryness of his throat, he knew what gas had kept him unconscious. Furthermore, he knew who was responsible for the sneak attack that had obviously taken the eighteen totem animals out of commission, as well. That was the only way any Necromonger could have moved the creatures against their will without major bloodshed.

Sitting up, he took stock of his surroundings. A quick mental review indicated that he was probably in the ghost settlement the Alphas and their adopted sister had described to him when they spoke about how they'd met. Even from inside a building, he could tell that they hadn't exaggerated about the climate: boiling hot and bone dry. Exploration brought him to the moisture collector, which seemed to have escaped damage during the eclipse from which they had fled.

Dame Vaako thought she had taken him out of the game. Once he'd found a container and started the moisture collector, he sat down in the shade and removed his left shoe. Withdrawing the insole allowed him to access the secret compartment he had created long ago.

The dark gray, rounded object fit his palm easily as he caressed the surface in precise patterns. Niklas prayed silently to the Lady as he composed a message and sent it. Somewhere, another Furyan would have a similar device, would be able to respond to his distress signal. They would bring a large enough vessel to transport the precious scale-wolves and spine-cats without anyone feeling crowded.

In the meantime, he needed to find provisions.

Richard, Eileen, and Jack were in trouble again. It had been several months, but the Pack bonds' message could not be mistaken. Worse, Marcus felt them pulling in three different directions, one of them to the new pack-mate he hadn't met yet.

The fact that the Pack had grown was good, but the unfamiliar connection blurred the sense of direction the heavily-muscled Beta normally possessed. Frustrated, he had left the Cartwrights' spacious apartment to wander the corridors of Icarus Station. Only the sunlight on the park level seemed to ease his tension.

Marcus eventually settled himself against a tree, the ordinary scents of soil and bark soothing his senses. In fact, he all but dozed off where he sat. Then an artificially-induced wind stirred the leaves around him and a stray piece of paper blew into his lap. Curious, Marcus took a look at the flyer.

"Yard sale." His brow furrowed as he read further. "Unclaimed items from the Lost and Found office. I wonder…" He'd have to ask James a few questions, but this event had some potential. It was a while away, but he had the patience to wait for it.

She kept one eye on her controls and the other on her sister. Eileen's vision had gone back to normal, but it had been disconcerting to see her eyes looking almost exactly like Rick's when she started to wake from the gassing. Side effects generally didn't happen with Necro drugs, Jack had learned, but maybe it was something about being Prime Alpha Furyan.

A soft tone from the console drew her attention. The ship had finally figured out where they were: halfway across settled space from Helion Prime, and almost as far from Icarus Station.

"Just fuckin' wonderful," she muttered. Eileen looked up, concern evident. "Gonna be weeks before we hit a civilized system." Meaning somewhere they could fence the Necro shuttle and get less conspicuous transport.

"Closest major system?"

"You're gonna laugh." Her sister shot her a glare that said to stop fooling around. "Lupus is closest, at least two months at this tub's best speed. An' no, nothin' I can do t' soup it up any more."

"What about th' systems between here an' there?"

"Well…" Jack sighed. "Callin' 'em 'civilized' is bein' generous." She slouched in the seat, crossing her arms on the console and burying her face in them. "Why's it mercs again?"

"Dunno, kiddo." Eileen took her hand and squeezed gently. "We'll get through, like we always do."

 _~God, I hope you're right, sis~._ Trying to stifle any doubts she had, Jack carefully plotted a course to Lupus V. She _really_ didn't wanna step into that pit of snakes if she could help it, but there wasn't a fucking choice this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Three**

Before long, I realize there's a whole 'nother world over there, on th' other side of th' cliffs. A world of water, grass, an' life, more than enough for me t' thrive, instead of this subsistence I'm ekin' out here. Enough t' hone th' whole animal, not just th' side that lashes out at anythin' remotely resemblin' a threat.

There's just one obstacle in my way. Since th' mudbugs're venomous an' th' one big bastard pretty much guards th' stair, I've gotta build up an immunity. So I need t' be in top physical shape, an' I need a test subject.

First, I catch some eels from th' hot pools. Doesn't hurt that th' water helps relax my muscles. Scrounge up some old mudbug tails an' use 'em t' mark out what I'm claimin' as my territory. Eel skins make a fair leather-like material, an' th' stomachs're surprisingly large. I turn one into a water bag while I smoke th' hides an' meat, an' set another aside for later.

A stray mudbug tail-spike turns into a decent cup, an' a stripped-down ribcage is roomy enough t' hold a critter. I lash th' bones together just in case an' go lookin' for a den. Followin' a group of dog-things leads t' three pups, just weaned. They're asleep after th' adults leave, an' I grab th' runt. Once he wakes up in th' cage, I can see that one eye is a lighter color than th' other as he drinks a little water.

Next, I catch one of th' small mudbugs an' take it back t' my lair alive. Milkin' its venom gives me a few milliliters of fluid, an' I attach one of its teeth t' th' eel stomach I saved, makin' sure it ain't gonna leak. Th' pup gets a little dose of venom, collapses an' twitches for at least an hour. But he wakes up, grouchy, an' snaps at me when I offer some dried eel. I growl back; he's gotta understand who's in charge around here.

Th' next day, he ain't showin' any negative side effects, so I tie a tourniquet on my arm an' inject myself. Hurts like a bitch an' makes me puke before I lose consciousness. I come back around near sunset; half th' day gone while I was out.

I put th' dog an' myself through a dozen rounds of venom, th' effects gettin' much weaker toward th' end. Weapon creation occupies much of my time between injections. Th' one I like best is a giant Stone-Age-tech switchblade. Big femur-type bone with a groove cut down th' middle, an' a knapped blade from a huge piece of black flint. A piece of a stick joins th' pieces at one end.

Finally, th' day comes when I'm ready t' face th' big bastard an' get up those stairs. Th' pup barks at me as I leave my temporary shelter, loaded up with my supply of dried eel. I glance back at him, then turn back toward th' mudholes.

Takes me a couple of minutes t' get th' attention of th' mudbug in th' big puddle. Its tail-head swings at me twice, an' each time I whack it with my folded-up switchblade. Then th' rest of th' ugly fucker pops up, sinkin' its teeth into my thigh. I flick th' blade out an' cut th' body away from th' mouth with three hits, then wrench it outta my leg.

That's when th' damn pup starts barkin'. It's got a couple of little bugs wavin' tail-heads at it from a small puddle, darin' 'em t' try an' get him. I can't help th' laugh that comes outta me.

"Escape artist, huh?" At th' sound of my voice, th' dog turns his attention t' me an' scampers my way. "Too damn cute for your own good." Hell. Eileen would _kill_ me if I left him here; he's got exactly zero survival skills. I take one step before I hear a loud, deep hiss, th' deepest I've heard yet. An' deeper means bigger.

I get halfway turned around before th' fucker smacks me. Knocks me clear off my feet, an' I end up hittin' a boulder. Thing's near twice th' size of th' one I just killed, an' th' damn dog just stands there, barkin' his head off, as th' mudbug stands up all th' way. I see one way t' get past this monster.

Collectin' my switchblade, I run towards th' dog an' scoop him up with my right arm. Then, as I hit th' edge of th' water, my legs fold so I start hydroplanin' straight at th' beast. I'm goin' just a bit too fast for it t' get me, an' I raise th' switchblade t' slice its stomach as I slide. Th' mudbug's distracted by its own blood an' entrails as th' pup an' I fetch up against th' bottom stair. I scramble up a few steps before turnin' t' see th' fuckin' bug stupidly eatin' itself. Won't be standin'— or livin'— much longer.

"Close one," I comment t' th' dog. He looks up at me, thin tail thumpin' against my hip as it wags, an' promptly sneezes in my face. Some kinda gratitude.

Oh well. I should have plenty of time t' train him better.

"Fuckin' skinflints." Jack was distinctly unhappy with how much we'd finally gotten for the Necro shuttle. I put an arm over her shoulder and squeezed gently. She had a point, though.

What we'd gotten wasn't enough for passage to another major port unless we split up, and that just wasn't going to happen. We needed to find a way to make more money or find someone willing to trade passage for our skills. On a planet full of bounty hunters, that could be problematical; we'd have to be specific about what skills were on offer and what wasn't.

"We'll manage somehow," I insisted. One of my gut instincts— the foreseeing ability Niklas said I'd gotten from my mother— was quite certain that our next step toward finding my mate was on this planet. "We _are_ going to find Rick." Even though just this step had taken six months.

"I _know_ that, Eileen." My sister elbowed me lightly. "Keep your screws tight an' help me figure out how t' get off this rock." I growled softly in response, then steered Jack toward a bar. We needed to be in there in the next five minutes, for some reason.

"Your 'Boss' is fuckin' nuts, man," someone growled from one corner of the taproom. I settled into a tall chair with a glass of water to eavesdrop.

"All I know is that it's personal for him." The reply came from a dark-skinned man in a tidy, well-kept navy blue outfit. "Doesn't get in th' way of takin' jobs, he just keeps an ear out. That business in Helion got him awful hot under th' collar, though."

"An invasion had _better_ get people riled," someone else groused. "Shouldn't need a con's name attached to it."

"From what we heard, nobody would've known about it at all if he hadn't been involved, though." This came from the only female in the group, a dark blonde with gear that looked similar to the darker man's. "For once, it seems he did everyone a favor, poppin' up where an' when he did."

"Am I imaginin' things, or are they talkin' 'bout who I think they are?" my sister whispered.

"I believe they are."

"Fuckin' dangerous target your captain's picked," the first man complained again. "He thinks four of ya c'n take Riddick? Bigger teams've tried an' failed."

"Boss keeps us well-armed an' -armored for a reason." The blonde sneered. "Th' idiots he's offed were hastily thrown together, didn't work as _proper_ teams."

"Exactly." Her comrade tossed back his drink and stood. "I don't think Boss would turn help away, but they'd hafta be up t' _his_ standards."

"Ethically, as well as physically." The woman followed suit. "Let's get outta here, Moss."

As the pair walked out, I gave Jack a speaking look, and she huffed.

"Shoulda told me ya had a hunch."

"It got specific rather quickly." I took a swig from my glass. "Now we have a name an' a handle, an' we know they've got standards. Unusual, in their business."

"Damn straight. First time I've heard a merc use th' word 'ethically'." She laid her arms on the little table we'd claimed. "We gonna join up with 'em?"

"If he's really that hot about catchin' Rick but still tight-laced about how he runs his outfit, could be our ticket."

"I'll follow 'em, then do a little diggin'. Catch ya back here in an hour?" At my nod, the brunette abandoned her chair and water, already thinking in 'mission' mode.

I sighed, gripping my glass almost too tightly.

 _We're comin', babe. Hell or high water._

Marcus had intended to distract himself with the rummage sale. A handful of items had far exceeded that goal; he even needed to hide his excitement as he gathered them and approached the station worker in charge of the event.

He paid a pittance for objects that, to him, were worth a fortune.

 _These must have belonged to Eileen's mother,_ he thought. A smooth, round, stone-like piece, an elaborately carved baton, and a leather satchel that felt like there was something in it, but appeared empty. Only a Furyan would have seen the secrets hidden in the unassuming items.

Once he had them safe in his room, Marcus began with the bag, opening pockets so cleverly hidden that they'd been missed entirely. The contents might look like random odds and ends to normal humans, but he understood their true value. They were the treasures of the families their previous owner had been part of, and two of them confirmed his guess.

Of the four carved animals, one was tiny and fox-like— a brush-fox— and another was a larger, spiky felinoid— a spine-cat. The Veruna line had belonged to the Brush-Fox Pack, and Eileen greatly resembled some of the Fayrens he had once known, whose family had led the Spine-Cat Pack. There were also icons of the Ground-Owl and Scale-Wolf Packs, which had been guided by the Trachens and Riddicks, respectively.

The distinctive rings of Pack leaders and the Chief Alpha's signet tumbled from another pocket; normals would value the stones and metals highly, but not as much as the heirlooms truly deserved. The baton, too, was a Furyan relic of sorts, the official symbol of the Optio, the Chief Alpha's right-hand Pack Leader. They must have known the homeworld was doomed, if they had sent such treasures away with Lady Veruna.

And the 'stone'… Marcus' fingers drew an intricate pattern, and symbols lit up, flashing orange.

 _A distress call?_ He frowned, a bit startled. It couldn't be the Alphas or his niece; they'd never seen a Furyan communicator. That left either the new pack member or a complete unknown, and the transmission's source planet favored the former.

A member of his Pack needed help, and the Beta was probably the only person who knew about it.

Time to get James' help.

Tucked into a strip of fabric wrapped around his waist, Niklas' communicator burbled, and he felt a weight lift off his shoulders that had nothing to do with the metal sheet he was dragging. Someone had gotten his message; any reply would take some time to arrive.

The other end of his burden rose, and the Omega glanced over his shoulder reflexively. The spine-cat returned his gaze calmly. It seemed to have adopted him, assisting when it could.

Niklas had never heard of such behavior among any of the totem species. Perhaps this was a change wrought by decades of pestering criminals on Crematoria. They all seemed to be even smarter than he remembered. Would the other species be similarly affected when they were rediscovered?

He shook his head. Woolgathering when he needed to be working on the domicile he'd chosen for his temporary home. Baffles against the too-bright, too-harsh sunslight was his current project, trying to diffuse what came in through the windows.

His job now was to survive so that the other Furyan— whoever it was— would have someone to rescue.

Stepping closer to the lean merc, she cleared her throat. The woman whipped around, one hand going to an empty holster as she focused on Jack. A moment later, she relaxed, having quickly assessed the situation and deciding there wasn't a threat.

"I heard your boss has standards for possible recruits." Given the apparent tension, it was probably better to get straight to the point.

"You interested in signin' up?" the blonde replied.

"Me an' my sister, possibly. If it looks like we can agree on ethics." That certainly got the merc's full attention, as she turned to fully face the younger brunette. "We usually can't stand th' average merc."

"Then you already have somethin' in common with us. No drugs, no beatin' on paydays, no startin' fights— we finish 'em." Jack nodded. "An' Boss only goes after marks that're a genuine threat t' society. Checks out records first."

"Pretty sure Eileen an' I can live with that." In fact, it sounded downright _reasonable_.

"Trainin's his other big thing."

"We're both proficient with rifles an' melee edged weapons. Eileen's got unarmed hand-t'-hand, too."

"I'll talk t' Boss, see what he says. Got a comm number?" The woman smiled slightly. "I'm Dahl, by th' way."

"Jack." She rattled off the combination to the comm they'd bought right after they sold the Necro shuttle. "Hear from ya soon?"

"Absolutely."

 _~God, I hope Eileen's right 'bout these people leadin' us t' Rick.~_ Dahl seemed like a surprisingly decent sort, for a merc.


	4. Chapter 4

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Four**

Compared t' where I started out on this dustball, th' upper side of th' cliffs is lush. Plenty of nice, potable water sources if ya know where t' look, natural shelters, an' some sizable grazers I prob'ly wouldn't've found without Dog. We've been here long enough for him t' grow up; bigger than th' ones I took him from, but that's what happens when an animal don't hafta worry 'bout goin' hungry.

I've not stayed in any one place very long over here. Built myself a travois, made some better clothin' from grazer hides. We keep movin' 'cause I'm lookin' for some hint of modern civilization I c'n use t' help th' girls find me. Prob'ly woulda gone savage without Dog around.

An' I know that's a dumb, obvious name for him. 'S good enough for me, an' he answers t' it.

Kinda.

Speakin' of th' devil, I c'n just barely hear him runnin' up behind me. I give him just long enough t' think he's got me before I crouch an' he soars over my head. Undeterred, he spins t' taunt me, ass end up in th' air an' front legs splayed t' keep head an' chest low. Can't help but laugh at how silly he looks.

Dog responds with a chuffin' sound of his own an' shifts somethin' around in his mouth. I sober up; he certainly don't have a taste for rocks, so he found somethin' odd while he was explorin'. I hold out a hand, palm up.

"Whatcha got over there?" Dog's smart enough t' understand me, gets up an' steps toward me. But at th' last second, he whirls away, actin' like he's bested me. "I thought we shared everythin'." He comes close an' then spins away again. I don't ask a third time, just fix him with a glare an' keep my hand out. _Now_ Dog looks subdued, like he's figurin' out that I ain't playin'.

Once he's close enough, my other hand whips out, grabbin' him by th' scruff an' makin' sure his mouth's over my open hand as I growl. "Drop it." He complies with a whimper. "Stay." All he does when I let go is lower his head an' scoot his ass up so he c'n sit.

Dog knows his 'daddy' is mad at him.

His fun new toy is somethin' I recognize: a golf ball. He only roams so far from me, so there's somethin' relatively modern close by. Somewhere somebody's had th' time an' energy for a game like golf. Given that this's th' first sign of 'em, it can't be a long-term place.

"Show me," I tell Dog. Perkin' up, he heads off, goin' about twenty or thirty meters an' then boundin' back t' me. Within an hour, we're standin' on a low cliff, an' I'm starin' at th' small outpost ahead. One story only, with a lookout position an' a spotlight on th' roof, louvered windows, completely metal structure. Simple, easy t' throw up, has some value defensively. I've got a suspicion 'bout exactly what it is. "Stay here." Dog sits his butt down obediently an' watches as I keep goin'.

One thing catches my eye as soon as I open th' door: enormous steel-jawed traps hangin' from an elevated rack. They'd be nice for takin' out mudbugs, but there's only a half-dozen of 'em. I pass up th' emergency beacon actuator an' check out some sheets of flimsi on a table.

"Bounty hunters." Mug shots flicker between front an' side images as I tilt th' material. Th' fact that th' bounty sheets were just layin' around makes me think that this's a co-op merc station. A tiny part of me wants t' just go ahead an' hit th' beacon, but more wants t' avoid th' bastards as long as I can. Nothin' standin' in th' way of usin' their supplies, though, so I grab a metal case marked 'Emergency Rations'. Should be somethin' good in there.

What th' hell would mercs want with hundred an' seven-centimeter traps, anyway?

Fuckin' wonderful. Some genius decided t' _really_ pinch their UDs an' stocked th' station with MREs, Meals Refused by Everyone. What's almost scary is that I've gone so long without processed foods that I actually _want_ t' eat one. Well, try. Whether I can manage t' get it down is a different story entirely.

It takes me a few minutes t' find somethin' I think might be okay. 'Crab enchilada hash,' th' package says.

"Sounds good." Dog gives me a look that's unconvinced, an' he can't even talk. Still, I've made my decision so I'm gonna try. 'Course, then I cut open th' package an' get assaulted by th' stench. Shit looks like mutant rat gonads in puke, smells that bad, too. On second thought, I'll emulate my ancient ancestors on Old Earth.

"Mmm!" Th' big doofus flicks an ear, an' I grin as I toss it his way. "All yours." He gets up an' cautiously approaches. "It says 'dog food' on it. If ya could read." Must be somethin' in my tone of voice, 'cause Dog crouches a bit an' moves just close enough t' sniff. An' it must not be any more appetizin' for him, since he immediately sneezes. 'Course, then he shifts around an' lifts a leg. "Come on."

He ignores my half-hearted— at best— protest as he scratches dirt over th' wet pack. So I give up on tryin' t' sound convincin' right as his ears go back a bit.

"All right. Bring me my reserve." That's one word he's learned well; he heads straight for the travois an' pulls at th' grazer haunch loosely tied onto it. Looks kinda like a giant bone-in ham, almost as big as Dog himself. He whines slightly as I start hackin' off a chunk.

"Where's yours?" I ask, which gets me a yip. Which, as usual, gets me smilin' as I toss some his way.

There are some things, though, that even MREs can't fuck up. Like chocolate an' nuts— pistachios, in this one. Dog gets curious about 'em, so I'm gonna make him learn a trick t' get th' treat. It takes a while t' get th' message across, but I finally get a row of nuts balanced along his snout. He's goin' cross-eyed tryin' t' look at 'em.

"Wait. Wait…" One pistachio wobbles an' falls off. "Steady… Okay, now!" With a lightnin'-quick movement, Dog goes from balancin' t' devourin'. I c'n tell he's tryin' t' decide whether or not he actually likes this treat, an' as I chuckle, I reach over t' ruffle his ears fondly.

It's gettin' late, accordin' t' my internal clock, so I close up th' bag of pistachios an' head for th' cave I've claimed. Haven't made many changes, other than carvin' 'Not Furya' into an overhang. Th' rest would prob'ly wash away if th' system flooded.

Maybe I'll dream about Eileen tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Five**

'Boss' Johns turned out to be quite an interesting person, once we met him. I could see a faint resemblance to Billy-Boy, mostly in the lines of his face. There was also an impression of a lot of time spent in cryo; he only looked a couple of years older than his son would have been.

Now that I'd seen all four members of his crew, I knew that Moss and Dahl's equipment didn't _look_ similar— they had almost certainly come from the same manufacturer before getting personalized modifications. Their captain clearly valued them enough to ensure that everyone had a specific minimum level of armor.

"So." Leaning against a door jamb, 'Boss' Johns crossed his arms over his chest. "Dahl tells me that the two of you have expressed an interest in joining my crew. On the other hand, you don't _appear_ to be mercs at all."

"Wouldn't want to," Jack countered with a snort. "Most of 'em are slobs with less moral fiber than a Terran garden slug."

"Eh, I can't disagree with that statement." The man's stance relaxed a bit, and one hand raked through his salt-and-pepper hair. "I need more than two sets of extra hands for ordinary tasks, I need people who have skills."

"Degreed criminologist." He raised an eyebrow when I blurted the information. "Granmoor College. I'd show you official proof, but it's aboard our vessel, an' God only knows where _that's_ gotten to by now. Ship was stolen. Jack's a commercially-licensed pilot, has been flyin' for years."

"Any craft you give me, I can handle." My sister smirked and drew a small dagger, idly rolling it across the back of her hand. "Extensive hand-t'-hand combat trainin', plus mil-spec rifles."

"Alliance or Company-style?"

"Company spec ops." A smirk spread across my own face. "My _senseis_ trained Riddick at Strikeforce Academy." Dropping my lover's name immediately locked the entire crew's attention on me.

"I heard that a couple of sergeants left th' Company an' started up a place on Icarus Station," Moss mused. "They th' ones?" A slow nod was all the response that question required.

"I'd like to see you spar some, and take a trip to the range, but consider yourselves hired. We can get you kitted out in the next couple of days, before we go out again." Boss smiled slightly.

"Welcome t' th' team," Dahl said with a grin. "Let's go get your things from wherever you've been stayin'." As we left the building, she winked. "Moss an' Lockspur are prob'ly already gettin' started on settin' up bunks for ya."

"Thanks for gettin' him t' give us a chance," Jack told the other woman. "Must've told him somethin' impressive."

"You wear your weapons like they're part of your own skin." The blonde shrugged. "Tells people who know what t' look for that you know 'em well. An' I noticed you comin' in at th' bar. You perked up when Moss mentioned Helion, even more when Riddick's name came up."

She didn't push on the subject, and the three of us walked in companionable silence for several minutes, reaching the hostel and taking less than five minutes to throw our belongings in a knapsack. At one point on the way back, Dahl looked like she had a question on the tip of her tongue, but she looked around and seemed to squash the urge.

After having dinner with the rest of the crew, we ended up in a sort of common area, Moss and Lockspur playing dominoes on a small table, and we 'ladies' on a couple of couches. The other blonde kept glancing toward me, hints of desire rising in her scent. I let a fragment of a smile quirk the corners of my mouth as I shook my head.

"Sorry, Dahl. I don't bat for that team, an' I'm taken, besides."

"Yup." Jack smirked. "Heat death of th' universe'll come before th' day Rick an' Eileen split up." The girl had really come to love being snarky while we were among the Necros; it was the only form of humor they seemed to be capable of feeling.

But now our teammate's gaze had turned shrewdly speculative. I gave the nearer of Jack's feet a light kick, glaring mildly when she turned. Suddenly realizing that she'd goofed, the brunette reddened a tiny bit. Dahl's focus, thankfully, had apparently shifted to our feet.

"Oooh." I hadn't heard anything distinctly feminine from her until now. "Those look customized. Any tricks, or are they just sinfully comfortable?" With a chuckle, I slipped one boot off and tossed it to her. She spent a minute or so checking it out, finally focusing on the barely-visible slits in the sole's edge.

I twitched my still-clad foot, and serrated blades emerged from the matching openings with a faint metallic scrape. _~Gettin' t' be time t' lubricate 'em again,~_ I told myself. Dahl seemed delighted by the surprise weapon.

"Where? Oh, God, _where_ did you manage t' find 'em?" Her voice carried a significant undertone of 'me want!'

"Made 'em." Jack briefly displayed her own set, then pushed the steel back in until the catch slipped into place with an audible click. "Eileen did th' finicky bits 'cause she's better at it than I am."

"Any chance of a pair for me?"

"It'll take time, but I can do it," was my response. "Some odd stuff when I get t' decidin' th' placement an' action for th' trigger." The blonde practically beamed as the stray boot returned to its proper place.

 _~That turned into a very good distraction,~_ I thought as the conversation turned toward gear that looked hot while fulfilling its utilitarian purpose. ~ _Very good indeed.~_

Wrath purred happily, using Niklas' thigh for a pillow. The hottest part of the day had just started, the mercifully brief period in which the blue star slowly emerged from below the horizon while the binary team still hung low in the sky opposite it. The other rise/set wasn't as bad.

One of the former Purifier's hands smoothed along his companion's spines, and the other held his long-dormant communication stone as he anxiously awaited the actual reply from the other stone-holder— not what had arrived five weeks ago, that was simply a notification that another stone had received his call and displayed it to the user.

Having completed all the modifications to his chosen dwelling-place that he could think of and then implement, Niklas had been spending more time attempting to better nail down his sense of the other members of the first pack to form since the homeworld's fall. The bonds seemed to be moving all over Creation, though, in no way consistent with any form of travel he knew about. Could this little, blasted desert planet, or the system it was a part of, be _interfering_ somehow with his links to the others?

The blond pushed that train of thought away with a sigh. He'd traveled upon it too many times already. Instead… well, Jack's very existence posed an interesting question, since he was sure she was half Furyan. Given the dozen years' age difference between her and Richard or Eileen, her full-blooded parent _must_ have either survived or escaped the massacre. Her body type indicated Alpha or atypical Beta lineage, her behavior pointing more toward the latter.

Betas had almost always tended to look and be very brawny, more so than Richard by a fair margin. Once in a while, however, a 'throwback' had cropped up who appeared closed to human normal on the surface. Some had considered such Furyans genetic sports, but Niklas had a different opinion: Mother Nature was laughing at the people who'd fled their original homes in an effort to avoid being forced into barbarism, only to have to take that route anyway and then evolving into a thriving 'barbarian' society.

Where the exceptions cropped up had been hit-or-miss enough that no one had ever tried to find out if there was a pattern or a tendency in any particular line. Then again, Eileen had shared with him a Pack in-joke of sorts; the member he hadn't met yet, a Beta whose name was vaguely familiar, frequently called Jack 'niece', and she had gotten into the habit of calling him 'Uncle Marcus' in return. There might, just possibly, be some truth behind the amusing byplay.

A chirruping sound and vibration in his hand snapped Niklas out of his contemplations. The meaning of the glyphs glowing through the refined crystalline matrix mad him chuckle. How Marcus Arganth had come across a communication stone would surely be an interesting tale, but he was on his way. Indeed, he should have been traveling for nearly a month now.

Thank Shirah, he was going to get off this damned rock.

"Got a question for ya." When Dahl poked her head into my bunk room— Jack's, as well— and made the statement, I knew the jig was at least partially up. My sister shot me a worried look as she waved in the other woman, who closed the door behind herself. I was a bit less concerned, as I had a feeling that the blonde could be trusted with sensitive information.

"What's on your mind?" I asked.

"Th' way you two react anytime someone mentions Riddick." I sighed. "You've got your own reasons t' be huntin' for him, an' they don't quite jive with Boss tryin' t' find out what happened t' his kid."

"We know _exactly_ what happened t' Billy," Jack growled. "We were _there_."

"What?!" Dahl's shock showed clearly. "He spoke t' all th' survivors he could find, an' they refused t' say anything."

"He missed us, obviously." I frowned in thought. "We might not have been on th' manifest, though. Jack was a stowaway, an' I got on at th' ship's last stop before it crashed— Icarus Station."

"So… what _did_ happen?"

"He was a fuckin' hype," my sister spat. "Didn't give a damn for anybody but himself."

"His last mistake was tryin' t' talk Rick into killin' Jack so he could use her as chum for th' damned landsharks." Dahl recoiled at the venom in my words. "He ended up feedin' 'em himself."

"That's… not th' person Boss remembers."

"He must not've seen or spoken t' Billy after Rick missed his aorta, then." The brunette snorted. "Bro hasn't repeated _that_ mistake."

"Jesus. He got himself hooked on morphine?" I nodded as the blonde sat back, clearly trying to digest the information. "Sounds like a clusterfuck all around."

"Might not've gotten anybody outta there without Eileen an' th' supplies she packed." Jack moved so that she could lean against me slightly. "Hell, I _know_ Zeke woulda bit it without ya, sis." Our visitor raised an eyebrow in a silent request for more information.

"John Ezekiel, Sharon Montgomery's husband," I clarified. "Almost became our first non-crash fatality." Then I chuckled, shaking my head. "Rick prob'ly wouldn't've pulled him outta th' hole if I hadn't told him t' play nice with th' other children." That drew a faint laugh from Dahl.

"He's only got two kids on his kill list, I noticed."

"Those were _Billy's_ kills, not Rick's." The brunette was tense and snarling again, and I put an arm around her. "That's how he got caught; surrendered t' keep any more of 'em outta th' crosshairs." Our teammate blanched, disturbed by the tactic.

"Boss isn't gonna be happy once he learns that. So Riddick…"

"Rick belongs t' _me_." Now I was the one growling. "An' I belong t' him. Anybody tries t' kill him, they'll hafta do us both, or th' survivor'll tear 'em limb from limb… barehanded."

"Easy." Dahl held up her hands. "Nobody said anything 'bout killin' anyone."

"It's been ten months since we got separated from Rick," Jack explained. "She's havin' a bit of a rough time, they hadn't been apart since they met, an' th' whole situation's playin' merry hell with their bond."

The other blonde nodded, her expression distant as she visibly pondered the information. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm back down; having my sister tucked against my side helped. Silence reigned for several minutes.

"It's more than just emotion an' shared experiences connectin' you an' him, isn't it?" Dahl eyed me speculatively. "Why? How?" Once again, I sighed. Even though the greatest threat had died more than two years ago, when my lover had killed then-Lord Marshal Zhylaw and avenged his mother, letting anyone know our secret was difficult.

"Because we're not ordinary humans," I finally admitted. "Don't know if you've heard of our subspecies: _Homo sapiens Furya_." The other woman's eyes widened in surprise. "Somethin' our ancestors didn't tell outsiders is th' phenomenon they dubbed 'mating', th' psychic pair bondin' that succeeded an' surpassed marriage; always spontaneous, with unique criteria for every couple."

"Kinda like soulmates, I figure. We think I might be half Furyan." Jack tilted her head to rest against my shoulder. "Sorta hope I've got a mate out there somewhere, but with most Furyans dead in th' massacre…" She gave a half shrug.

"I remember hearin' th' term 'Furyan', a long, long time ago." Our teammate shook her head ruefully. "Explains a lot." Then she paused. "If we got a location, what would you do when we got there?"

"I'd be th' first one outta th' ship an' immediately go lookin' for him," I replied honestly.

"An' th' longer it takes t' find Rick, th' less forewarnin' she'll be able t' give." My half-hearted glare didn't phase the brunette at all. "You already go bugfuck from time t' time. An' th' minute you get t' him, well…" She grinned lasciviously.

"Brat." The word carried no heat, only fond amusement. She was right, after all. Two months of abstinence had been bad enough, and that had been without actually being away from Rick.

"I heard a rumor once that some Furyans had ESP-like abilities. Any truth t' that?" Dahl asked quietly.

"Yeah." We were already trusting her with a lot. "I inherited a foresight talent from my mother, but I don't have much control over it."

"She didn't teach you?" I shook my head.

"She was murdered not long after I was born. Only learned her name two years ago." I had to swallow tears.

"Damn, I'm sorry." Then the blonde glanced at her chrono. "I'm gonna go hit th' rack. Won't tell anyone about what you've said unless I've got your permission."

"Thank you." She nodded to acknowledge my whisper and left. Jack gave me a speaking look, one eyebrow arched. "Yes, gut feeling." She sighed and turned away to get ready for bed.

Sometimes, my untrained Sight drove me up a wall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Six**

I know as soon as I open my eyes that I'm dreamin', since it looks like th' bedroom I share with Eileen on our private ship, _Wanderers' Den_. Haven't actually set foot on its decks in years. An' on th' bed lays my lover, lookin' half asleep. But I _highly_ doubt this's entirely in my head.

"Eileen?" As I sit on th' edge of th' mattress, a corner of my mind notes th' odd detail that I'm wearin' a pair of dark boxers that look a lot like th' ones she's usin' with a tight, dark shirt.

"Mm." First, she just shifts position, curlin' closer t' me. Then her slim hand meets my knee, th' fingers flexin' before she jerks her head up in surprise. "Rick?!" After starin' briefly, she throws her arms around me, shoulders heavin' with pent-up emotion.

"Yeah, babe. Here for th' moment, at least." I just hold her for a while, my nose against her neck where I c'n both inhale her scent an' feel her heartbeat. Main downside t' this whole situation in th' wakin' world is bein' apart. "You an' Jack got away from Vaako's boys alright?"

"Really don't think Vaako was in charge when shit went down, but yeah. Ended up where we can head your way as soon as we know where you are."

"Wish I could tell ya," I mutter back. "There's a merc co-op, but I haven't seen a designation." Th' temptation of her lips becomes too much, so I cover 'em with mine.

Right now, talkin's overrated.

It's only as th' post-coital bliss fades that I really let Eileen's words percolate through my brain. Of course, that's when whatever decided t' put us in th' same metaphysical spot for th' night lets go, too. She fades right out of my arms, an' I wake t' find Dog watchin' me anxiously.

That seems t' set th' tone for my whole day. A grazer destroys one of my snares, an' a small rodent-type has gotten into one of my stashes. _Nothin'_ goes right. Eventually, I stop tryin' t' get anything done an' play fetch with Dog for a while.

Now that I've seen my woman, however briefly, bein' stuck here is wearin' thin.

As the sleek ship descended, Niklas admired its clean, utilitarian lines. No one had tried to decorate it, unlike the Necromonger vessels he'd been using for nearly thirty years. It settled gently on its landing skids and, once the engines spooled down, a nearly-invisible hatch slid open, extruding a ramp. Two men emerged, engrossed in a discussion, and then an auburn-haired girl dashed out past them.

Wrath—the adolescent spine-cat which had adopted him—bristled for a moment as the child neared, but settled when the blond patted him. Still, the girl stopped five meters away, warily but curiously studying the score of clearly unfamiliar creatures around him.

"Niklas Agnar?" the red-headed man that he suspected was the girl's father asked. The other, bulkier male appeared to sniff the air. "I'm James Cartwright, Eileen's friend."

"They look like your little carvings, Uncle Marcus," the child piped inquisitively. "The cat and wolf ones." The larger man—presumably Marcus—nodded.

"Yes, Allie, they're spine-cats and scale-wolves." Then he favored Niklas with a small bow of respect. "Marcus Arganth, formerly Beta of the Crested Eagle Pack, honored Omega. Richard and Eileen rescued me several years ago."

"Thank _you_ for rescuing _me_ ," the blond replied with a slight chuckle. Then he knelt, putting an arm around his four-legged companion. "Would you like an introduction, young one?" Hazel eyes widened, and after a quick glance to her father for permission, the girl stepped closer, one hand out with the palm up.

"Does he have a name?" she asked. "I'm Alexis, or Allie."

"He is Wrath. It is a pleasure to meet you, Allie." Then he looked back up at Arganth while the cat got her scent. "I was born to Canyon Bear Pack."

"Anything in these buildings that you'd like to keep, Mr. Agnar?" the redhead queried. "Not that I mind it being so sunny here; feels to me like the air's a bit on the thin side, though."

"One of the scale-wolves has had a pair of pups, but there's nothing here that I need." Niklas shrugged. He turned toward the building he had been using just as Thrash and Victrix emerged. Each carried a limp, slightly-scaled body held gently in their jaws. The male had his head and tail up, obviously proud that he'd sired twins. "Well, I suppose that takes care of everything."

"Yes, you've done well," Marcus rumbled when the tagged scale-wolf trotted up to display his offspring. "The Alphas will be pleased." Apparently satisfied with the praise, Thrash moved toward the ship and up its ramp, followed by the rest of the mixed pack.

"Come on, Niklas." Allie wrapped her small hand around his and tugged a little. "I'll show you around the _Wayfarers' Eyrie_."

Smiling just a bit, the blond complied. Thank the Lady, he was leaving the bloody planet!

"Eileen, Jack, I need to see you two in the hangar." I raised an eyebrow at Boss, inviting him to elaborate, but he simply continued down the corridor. We'd returned to the team's home base a week ago, and he'd seemed more preoccupied than he usually was between jobs. Now, with curiosity digging its claws into me, I set aside the book I'd been reading, pulled on my boots, and followed.

Nothing could have prepared me for the scene I found. Moss was on the ship, crouched down to weld something next to the tie-down points for the three Hogs that we all used. Those hover-bikes had been parked off to one side, and Dahl and Lockspur were guiding another pair of rumbling machines through the bay door. My sister stopped next to me, just as surprised.

"Boss?" the brunette questioned, the single word loaded with meaning.

"You've been part of the team for a year and a half," the older man responded. "And our profits have gone up significantly. You've earned your own Hogs." A sudden grin took years off his face. "Customize them as you like, ladies."

To my shock, Jack actually hugged the former soldier; she was rarely physically demonstrative toward men. I nodded my thanks to him, moving toward the vehicles, and Dahl released a set of controls to me with a slight gesture toward the tank—"ERB" had been neatly engraved there, clearly marking it as _my_ territory.

"We put on a rack for your katana," Lockspur told my sister as he passed the other hover-bike to her. She promptly swung a leg over the saddle, gunned the engine, and slewed the machine around to face back out the door.

"Back in a few." With the trademark Harley-Davidson roar, Jack and her new toy vanished outside. I traded grins with the other blonde.

"That old saying about boys an' their toys…" Dahl chuckled. "She definitely fits into the boys' category there, doesn't she?" I gave an amused snort, propping one hip on my Hog.

"You wouldn't doubt it for a second if you could see th' cockpit aboard _Wanderers' Den_." She raised an eyebrow at the mention of our much-missed freighter. "She requested th' best nav an' piloting system available when we ordered our boat, an' Rick helped her with installation whenever we found a hardware upgrade." In fact, one particularly strenuous, complicated addition had left my man so temptingly sweaty…

"Lupus V to Eileen." I automatically swatted at the elbow that had gently nudged me, only for a familiar, slim but strong grip to intercept my hand.

"No spacin' out in th' middle of th' hangar, sis." Feeling my cheeks heat, I glanced a quick apology toward my teammate, trying to ignore the concern on her face.

As the brunette steered me toward our bunk, I heard the murmur of questions behind us.

"What the fuck was that?" Boss asked as soon as she returned to the hangar. "If I didn't know how you two feel about drugs, I'd think Eileen was in withdrawal."

"In a way, she is, just not from pharmaceuticals." When her teammates simply continued to stare at her, Jack sighed. "She's got this weird thing with her husband, an' he's been missin' long enough for her body chemistry t' go wonky." She grimaced, both at the highly speculative nature of her statement and the need to use a relationship term that would be clearly understood but wasn't technically applicable. "That's my theory, at least. Doubt even a doctor's gonna be able t' come up with somethin' more definite."

"You've been hopin' that all our hoppin' around will help you find him." She flashed a bit of a smile at Moss for his quiet understanding.

"We got separated from him over two years ago. Until now, she hasn't gone spacey around anyone but me."

"Keep an eye on her." Then Boss shook his head, chuckling at himself. "Hell, I'm preaching to the choir. Let me know when it gets bad, and we'll stop taking jobs, make finding him our priority." Dahl nodded, making it clear that she supported the decision as she put a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Thanks, guys." Knowing that their backs were covered was quite a relief—even though she knew Boss would really flip when he found out just who she and Eileen were looking for.

 _~Actually,~_ Jack thought with an internal giggle, _~his reaction's probably gonna be hilarious… five years or so after it happens.~_

"Dahl." She turned at her name to see the team leader peering out of his office door, and changed course to join him in the privacy it offered. "You've spent a lot of time with them."

"Well, yeah, I can be a _girl_ around them." She restrained a laugh at the face he made; Boss tended to think of her as 'one of the guys' despite her gender. "But they've told me a few things in confidence." At that, he nodded, settling back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "They're not vanilla humans."

 _~Come on, do the math.~_ The blonde watched intently as he seemed to gaze at something in the distance, obviously thinking. Finally, he focused on her again.

"Not all of 'em were killed, then." Boss leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk. "Some Furyans were missed."

"From what Eileen's said, it was a damned close thing." She shook her head. "Never knew her own mom."

"Shit." He winced, then sighed. "And if she's with her man the way I remember seeing their couples, I'm surprised she didn't go completely batshit months ago."

That bit didn't really come as news to Dahl; she and Boss were far older than they appeared, thanks to the time they had spent in cryo during their careers. Plenty old enough to have encountered 'wandering' Furyans before the entire race had seemed to vanish.

"Alright, at least I have a bit of understanding on the situation. Wish they'd told me earlier, but if Eileen's been hiding her origins all her life, it's probably hard for her to trust _anyone_ with the truth." The team leader sat back again and made an absent flicking motion with one hand. Recognizing the dismissal that was also a request for thinking space, the blonde left him to his thoughts.

A cold, moist nose against my shoulder snaps me back t' th' present. Damnit, 'nother one of those fuckin' spells. Fortunately, Dog knows he c'n snap me out of it, but they're gettin' frequent enough t' be dangerous. I scratch him behind an ear an' retrieve my knife.

Th' canid gives me a strange look, walks toward his 'sentry' rock, then comes back t' whine at me. Since he seems t' be insistin' that I come over, I follow him up onto th' ledge. Off near th' horizon, dark clouds're fillin' th' sky, a slanted gray curtain beneath 'em.

"Rain," I tell Dog, givin' him a pat. "It's a good thing." But he growls instead of relaxin', so I look harder. Something's movin' inside th' storm, kinda makes me think of scorpions.

Ah, shit. Mudbugs.

"Easy," I tell my four-legged friend. "Looks like our time is up here."

Gotta use that emergency beacon after all. _Somebody_ had better respond before th' storm system hits this part of Not-Furya.

The jump ship's computer chirped, and Jack swiveled her chair around to see what it wanted, since she had comm duty. Reading the first few details, she barely suppressed a joyful shout.

"Well, _that's_ new," she muttered, coming to the end of the information. Then she raised her voice. "Boss, you're gonna wanna see this." He'd been preparing to belt in, but promptly stood and moved forward to look over her shoulder.

"Hot damn." The team leader rarely swore, and this sounded eager. "Change of plans, everyone," he announced. "Jack, plot a course to Merc Station P7, maximum safe speed. We don't want some asshole grabbin' the double bounty before we get there."

"Yessir." She noticed an almost feverish gleam in her sister's eyes as she faced forward again. No way was Eileen gonna do anything once they cracked the hatch except take off like a shot to find Rick.

And if he'd been on that planet all this time, why hadn't he used the beacon until now?

It's been weeks since I set off that damned beacon an' let it shine its fuckin' beams in my eyes. Finally, though, it looks like it's payin' off. Th' clouds swirl with a muted roar, then part for a six-engine ship. It's an older model, one that most any long-term merc group c'n afford.

Next t' me, Dog stares at th' ship, layin' back his odd-shaped ears an' growlin'. We've been holed up in this rock outcrop near th' station for somethin' like a week, waitin' an' preparin' for this. I put an arm around him, an' he settles… some.

Th' mercs' landin' is kinda sloppy; guy doesn't care that he's puttin' unnecessary wear an' tear on his gear. An' th' fact that one of his guys—young kid, at that—comes out practically gaggin' for fresh air tells me hygiene ain't much of a priority, either. Th' gagger is definitely cleanest of th' whole lot, so new he _squeaks_. Like wet rubber.

Lo an' behold, they actually give th' place a once-over before settlin' in. I built some little microphones an' a receiver from th' bits lyin' around an' stashed 'em inside, so I know when they find my first hint.

"Nothin'." Th' first voice is deeper, probably th' bigger guy.

"Look again, Diaz." This one sounds like he's th' leader. I have t' restrain a chuckle; mercs have no fuckin' clue how useful their 'trash' c'n be. There's a bit of a pause as a door swings closed.

"Somebody should teach this Riddick asshole how t' count." I grin at th' reaction. "'Leave one ship'? Like we've got a fuckin' spare layin' around." Another pause.

"Let's crank it up," th' one in charge finally orders. Everyone ramps up their activity levels; Squeaker opens their port-side auxiliary hatch, probably tryin' t' air it out. Another merc starts settin' up a Cyclops security unit. Not a bad system, unless your enemy knows how vulnerable th' remote sensors are.

An' it's a flaw I intend to exploit, once th' whole cast is here. No way in hell is just _one_ team gonna show up with _me_ for bait; ain't just my ego sayin' that, either. An' even if it weren't more mercs, I c'n finally feel th' presences of th' four Furyans that make up th' rest of my Pack; distant, but gettin' closer by th' minute.

"Hey Luna." My ears perk up again; th' leader's back on his ship for some reason an' has stopped next t' Squeaker.

"Yeah?" th' kid responds.

"Wake her up, kick her out of bed."

 _~… Eileen's gonna be royally fuckin'_ _ **pissed**_ _,~_ I think. Got a sneakin' suspicion of what th' asshole's up to.

"What do you mean?"

"We're running heavy." Fuck. Squeaker's so new—or so naïve—he needs it spelled out.

"She's a prisoner." My forehead hits th' rock as I hear his confusion. "Wasn't she gonna pay our way back?"

 _~Survive th' next few days, kid, an' I c'n guaran-damn-tee you won't be chasin' bounties anymore.~_

"We're going _big_ now." His grungy-ass boss slows his words, like he's talkin' to an imbecile. "Okay? Cut that sixty kilos loose."

It's a wonder that only Dog an' I seem t' react t' th' sudden bedlam a couple minutes later.

"Get away!" Th' shriek is panicked an' hoarse. "Get away from me!"

"Stop, just stop!" I c'n just barely see th' kid lookin' around, like he hopes th' girl hasn't drawn attention.

"What do you want now?"

"I'm gonna take off the restraints, okay?" Too nice for his own good, with this kinda crew.

"I don't _want_ them off," th' girl whispers, on th' edge of my hearing. Given th' way some of these bastards look—th' leader an' his big second, especially— I c'n guess why.

"No, it's not like that," Squeaker tries t' assure her. "Nobody's gonna touch you now. Santana's head is into other stuff now. Your lucky day." There's another pause; he's probably takin' off her restraints. She groans, sounds like she's in pain.

"Get away from me."

"Okay." I see th' kid back up.

"What planet is this? Where are we?" Sensible questions.

"It's got air and water. That's all you've gotta know."

"But how am I supposed to survive—"

"Just _go_ ," Squeaker insists, cuttin' her off. "Before he changes his mind." Then th' prisoner comes out where I c'n see her, favorin' her right leg. Dusky skin, long, dark, curly hair, worn an' filthy cargo pants an' tank top. She starts runnin' toward me, lookin' back over her shoulder.

 _~All right, if she gets this far, I'll grab her,~_ I decide. Not a choice I'd've made if I hadn't met Eileen. It'll be a pain, havin' a wild card t' hide an' take care of, but if it lets me spit in th' eyes of these bastards, it'll be worth it.

But just as I'm gettin' ready t' reach for her, a shot rings out. Squeaker jumps, startled bad, as she's thrown forward, blood sprayin' from th' new hole in her chest. No way I could do anything for her with that injury, even if we'd been right in front of a modern first-worlds hospital. Santana probably took a chunk out of her heart with his fuckin' bullet. Th' girl falls just a meter or two from me, her face turned my way; as she gasps for a few last breaths, I mouth th' word 'sorry,' kinda surprised that I actually mean it.

I look back at th' merc ship as Squeaker spins t' look out th' auxiliary hatch at his boss. Th' fucker lowers his gun an' shrugs nonchalantly.

"I was getting attached to her." My jaw clenches in fury at th' bullshit 'excuse'. "Now where is my box at?"

 _~Box-Boy.~_ That's what I'm callin' him from now on. _~Gonna kill you myself, in person, an' in front of whoever else's alive at that point.~_

"The name is Santana!" Now th' fool's grandstandin', like I'm supposed t' be impressed or cowed by him. "Shot-caller for this crew right here! I am the guy who knows all, sees all, beats all!" Two of his crew mutter to each other, but I can't hear 'em over Box-Boy. "I've come all this way to collect your head in a box!" He brandishes a small cryo-unit. "Right here! So have yourself a fine day now, Mr. Richard B. Riddick! I suspect it will be one of your very last!"

"So I'm worth more dead these days, huh?" I comment t' Dog. Th' mercs have turned toward th' station as my four-legged companion snorts. Before they can go inside, though, there's another low rumble echoin' from above th' clouds.

"Shit," Santana snarls. "Here comes the neighborhood."

"Small world," his big number two adds.


	7. Chapter 7

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Seven**

I can't help but grin at Box-Boy's discomfiture. Two of th' new neighbors, accordin' t' my extra senses, are _very_ welcome in my books. An' my bugs inside let me hear every second of th' merc's reaction.

"Unidentified vessel, this is Clan Vagos out of Ursa Five. Be advised that we are on the ground now and have responded to an emergency signal." My, how civil he sounds… but he ain't gettin' a response. "No distress found, no need to land. I repeat, there is no reason for you to land at this location at this time." Still nothin' as th' newer ship extends its landin' gear an' swivels in a manner familiar t' me. "Is that clear?" Santana's finally snarlin'. "No reason to land at this location at this time."

Th' ship continues its turn, an' I glimpse a familiar face behind its canopy. Of course they'd have Jack at th' controls; they'd be idiots t' do otherwise.

"What the fuck did I just say?!" I can hear Box-Boy throw th' comm mike before he stomps back outside.

My eyebrows rise as th' new crew exits their ship. Th' second figure is feminine under th' bulky protective suit; second off is usually second-in-command, just as th' first off is generally th' leader. Not many women seconds under male firsts among th' organized merc teams. Another two guys come behind her, with Jack bringin' up th' rear as a barely-seen figure eases out of th' top hatch an' heads away from th' building.

"It was a long haul," I hear th' guy in front say before Santana can start. "We could take on some water. Wouldn't mind a little true-gravity time, either." Good excuses. Eileen—that _has_ t' be who was sneakin' out—has managed t' vanish into th' landscape.

"Like I was saying, I've got this." Th' newcomer looks skeptical, even from here, especially as more of th' first team come into view.

"You know who that was, right? On the emergency beacon?" Funny; new guy sounds vaguely familiar. At least he respects my rep.

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't." Now the guy's gaze goes t' Squeaker, an' I can almost hear him decide th' kid ain't th' right material t' take me on.

"The concept of backup still has no appeal to you?" Smart man; th' more he talks, th' more I find myself respectin' his guts an' smarts.

"My besties here can ball with anyone." I chuckle at th' lie. "No disrespect for your crew, of course, who look strong, too, in those matchy-matchy outfits." Bigger lie, even though some of th' Vagos boys chuckle.

"Matchy-matchy because Boss wants t' know his people have at least a minimum level of protection," a voice whispers in my ears as hands slide up my arms. Dog looks over briefly, then relaxes; I don't need t' see t' know who's behind me. Even as I reach t' put an arm around her, my mate shimmies up next t' me.

"Smart man." I nip her ear gently; still need t' pay attention, see how this first encounter plays out. Th' Vagos second mutters somethin' an' gets a laugh outta Box-Boy.

"Well, it's not my intention to jump another man's claim," th' new leader responds. "If you don't mind, maybe we'll just pull up a chair and spectate for a while." He takes a couple of steps an' gets blocked.

"What if I do?"

"Well, this is a co-op station, pal. It's open to all mercs." I feel Eileen's ribcage vibrate with a silent chuckle. "By the way, my name is—"

"Too Late," Santana drawls. "That's your name, 'Too Late.' And I don't need you stepping all over my dick here, my friend."

"Well, I'll tell you what." Th' man's still playin' affable. "I won't lift a finger to help until you come ask me for it. How's that?" Without another word, he an' his crew—includin' Jack—head inside like nothing's wrong.

"Somebody's gonna die for killin' th' girl, I presume?" My woman's already taken in that part of the scene, of course, as she shifts around t' my front.

"Two more seconds an' she'd be alive," I murmur, though it comes out as a dark rumble. She runs her hands over my scalp as I pull her close; Eileen's th' only person who knows how t' truly soothe th' savage beast in me.

"Show me where you've laired, my love," she whispers, an' I'm only too happy t' comply.

Can't make myself put her down, let her walk there, though.

We've been apart far too long.

 _~Boss is gonna blow a gasket when he realizes Eileen's gone and I have to tell him everything.~_ Jack managed to resist the urge to chew on a fingernail, glanced at Dahl worriedly, then looked at the kid from Clan Vagos again. _~He's too…_ _ **nice**_ _to be running with these asshats.~_

"I've got your back, kiddo," the team second muttered as she walked by with her oversized rifle case. The brunette acknowledged the comment, but kept an eye on the young man.

"That's weird." Moss was frowning at Jack's back.

"Leave her alone about her sister." His startled look was easy to field with a raised eyebrow—Dahl's long-established signal that all would be explained, eventually. The suddenly-absent sister wouldn't be a problem, or mentioned again, but the blonde had no _fucking_ clue about the young woman's apparent fixation on one of the other mercs. Granted, the kid didn't fit with the rest of Clan Vagos, but he was otherwise fairly unremarkable. Cute, maybe, but still…

Shaking her head, Dahl finished the slight maintenance her sniper rifle needed and glanced toward her oldest and closest friend. Seeing that Boss was getting out the holomap, she wandered over as he tapped the glitchy panel. Once the whole display was working, he moved the terrain to show a section further to the south, where more dramatic topography took over.

"I was scoping this out earlier." A lacework of tunnels lit up in pink, even more of them showing up when he rotated the image. "It's a cave system, five klicks south. Might be worth a look." She nodded.

"Hey, Too Late." The Vagos leader strode in like he owned the station. "Need to pull a node from your ship and store it right here, next to mine. Okay?" He waved toward a large locker on the upper level of the main room.

"Really?" Boss fixed the greasy little man with a gimlet stare. "Why is that?"

"Riddick triggered the beacon to get off-world, right?" He patted a rectangular object already sitting on the shelf—it was about the right size for a node. "Basically, he was calling a taxi."

"And?" Dahl knew her friend was no idiot; he was deliberately drawing the other group's plan out of its architect.

"And a ship would make a sweet trap, right? Confined space, metal walls, jail cell. Is cool, huh?"

"Is it true," she asked, suppressing a grin, "half the people you meet are _below_ average intelligence?" From the corner of her eye, she saw the other man deflate.

"Got to make sure the ships stay grounded when he comes for them, okay?" The Vagos leader—she hadn't bothered to learn his name yet—clapped his hands. "Come on."

Dahl turned a faintly pleading look on her business partner, but he sighed in resignation. It _was_ a reasonable precaution, after all, given what was known about Riddick's skills. Well, _publicly_ known.

"Pull a node from the ship."

Of course, once she returned with the power source, the vile little man refused to give her any space. He even tried to take over shelving the unit halfway through, forcing the blonde to slap his hand away from her arm. And it wasn't a prissy little slap, either.

Without any warning at all, a slim arm came around the bastard's neck from behind and tightened until his eyes began to bug out.

"Leave her th' fuck alone, you misbegotten misogynist," Jack snarled as he struggled. "An' don't think I didn't see that poor girl you shot. Th' way I see it?" The young woman's hand opened and grabbed his shoulder; she used a very scientific application of force to hurl him away from them both. "You—and probably one or more of your boys—were usin' her, maybe got tired of her. You let her think she was gonna get away, then shot her in th' back as she ran."

Interestingly, the Vagos leader's puce color had gained a uneasy greenish tone as the brunette spoke, and when she glanced his way, the kid was blinking rapidly and swallowing hard.

 _~He witnessed at least part of what she's talking about,~_ Dahl realized. _~And he looks like he needs to talk to someone about it, too, now that someone else has floated the theory and it's not just his word against theirs.~_

 _Way_ too nice a person to be associating with these assholes of his own free will.

"Stand down, Jack." As soon as the younger woman shifted her focus to Boss, the greasy little man produced a yellow explosive lockbox, gave both females a somewhat wider berth than before, and set it against the hasps on the locker doors so he could key in a combination.

"Any time now, Riddick," Dahl heard him mutter as he walked back outside.

An hour later, the blonde noticed her young friend at the table, hunched slightly over a scrap of thin paper and a compact stylus. She was writing something in tiny letters, then tore off that section and wadded it up into a little ball. Jack seemed to consider for a moment as she tucked the stylus into a tiny sleeve on her corselet, then hurled the small projectile at the Vagos kid—Luna, she'd heard one of the others call him—and swiftly turned so that, when he looked for who had pegged him, she appeared to have her attention on something else entirely.

 _~Shit, she's crushing on the kid,~_ Dahl thought to herself. _~This is going to be fucking hilarious.~_

Fortunately for him, Luna was bright enough to flatten the piece of paper before he discarded it. He stiffened, glanced at the brunette again with a faint air of suspicion, then shoved the scrap into a pocket. Jack continued to studiously ignore him.

"Warnin' your boy t' stay close tonight?" the blonde murmured, suppressing a smirk. Hazel eyes flashed at her, and a low growl came from the girl's throat.

"You two." Boss' call kept her from trying to calm her young friend, and Dahl nodded as he tilted his head toward a semi-private bunk area. Here came the questions she'd been both dreading and anticipating with unholy glee.

As Boss closed the chain mesh curtain to block out the other ten people milling about in and around the building, then peered out the windows into the increasing dark and closed the metal slats over them, Jack began to gnaw at her lower lip. The older blonde put a hand on her shoulder in reassurance.

"Where is she?" Her friend had never been one to beat around the bush.

"Thing is, Boss," the brunette began, "if we'd thought you'd believe us, we'd have told you pretty early on." She fidgeted. "But… well, we knew _I_ was never on th' manifest, an' since Eileen was literally a last-minute passenger, she probably wasn't either." As Jack spoke, the former military man sank onto a bed, going pale under his tan.

"You gotta be shitting me," he muttered. "All along, you've been hoping I'd lead you to him." Then another fact appeared to unfold in his mind as his eyes widened further. "He's Furyan?!"

"Only Prime Alpha pair in existence; from what we've learned, his father was th' last Chief Alpha of th' Packs. An' Eileen's dad was his right-hand man; their moms were best friends."

" _Fuck_. No wonder he's so hard to catch." Boss rubbed a hand over his face. "But that means the kids right before my son nabbed him were someone else's kills." Because Furyans didn't hurt the young, they protected them fiercely.

"I'm sorry, Boss, but Billy's th' one who shot 'em. Rick surrendered 'cause he threatened th' rest of th' group." And she did look like she regretted having to destroy his mental image of William.

"Seems he got in with th' wrong bunch of mercs when he left the MPs," Dahl added, hoping to stave off some of the guilt she could already see settling over him. "We never told him 'bout that side of th' business."

"Guess we should have," he muttered. "I take it Bill survived the crash." Jack nodded, and continued at his gesture.

"Yeah. He let us believe he was a cop, not just a merc, but Eileen wasn't fooled. We were tryin' t' get more power cells so th' emergency skiff would work, but only got partway back before th' eclipse hit." Now the brunette was starting to tremble just a bit. "We were able t' keep movin' 'cause Rick an' Eileen can see in th' dark. Had t' go through a canyon on th' way, an' th' predators—we called 'em grues— had lined up on th' walls, were smellin' th' pilot bleedin'. Billy got frustrated with pullin' th' sled, went up t' talk t' Rick without knowin' Eileen could hear him. He suggested hackin' someone up an' draggin' 'em behind t' keep th' grues busy so everyone else'd get through." Jack looked up, tears in her eyes even as they blazed. "He wanted Rick t' do it, an' he wanted th' bait t' be _me_. Rick wouldn't do it, he an' Eileen drew Billy away from th' group, an' there was a fight. They didn't kill Billy, though, his own idiocy did. Half his shells were actually hidin' his twice-daily dose of Lady M."

"Ah, God. My boy's been gone a lot longer than ten years." Boss had covered his face as the brunette had spoken, probably to hide how much he was hurting. Then a thought struck Dahl.

"We'll have t' pretend we don't know Eileen, don't know any of this, until Santana an' most of his crew are dealt with, especially that big one." The former soldier looked up, new lines of sorrow already etching themselves on his face as he visibly set aside his emotions. She knew that, once the current situation was resolved, he would seek privacy and only then let it all out.

"Diaz," her old friend supplied, his voice thicker than usual. "Their tech guy's Rubio, the kid's Luna, and the other three are Falco, Nunez, and Vargas." Jack's eyes widened slightly.

"Pretty sure Luna's no danger, but th' rest… wouldn't trust 'em with so much as a pea." The blonde frowned.

"I can guarantee we don't hafta worry 'bout attacks tonight," the younger woman offered. "Unless Rick found or made some kinda traps he could set up, which I wouldn't put past him for a heartbeat. But nothin' active; they're gonna be caught up in each other for ages." Then she grimaced. "An' that's _all_ I'm gonna say about _that_." Brunette eyebrows waggled as Jack held up a small electronic device that had clearly been made somewhere other than a factory or professional shop. "Didja know remote mikes can be made from th' junk left around these places? Three guesses who made this, an' th' first two don't count."

"Receiver, too?" The blond whistled under her breath when she got a nod. "Damn. He's had _entirely_ too much time on his hands."

"An' not enough credit for havin' a workin' brain." Jack snorted. "That's th' most aggravatin' part, havin' people think you're an idiot when they don't know shit about you…" Satisfied that her young friend was returning to an even keel, Dahl steered her back out toward where Moss and Lockspur were getting out their dominoes. And since she'd brought it up, she might as well dig up a station inventory to see just what was missing.

"Rick." He hummed in response as he worked some dust into my gear. "Leave th' kid in one piece, dear."

"Who, Squeaker?" I raised an eyebrow; my mate came up with damned funny nicknames for some people. "I c'n do that, just don't ask for anybody else on that team."

With a wince, I realized how my request probably sounded and reached out to take his hand in apology. My lover squeezed back, one corner of his mouth quirking up in understanding.

"This 'Boss' of yours is pretty hot on gettin' me, then?"

"Well, he _is_ lookin' for answers he hasn't gotten from anyone else… though Jack's probably told him what happened on T2 by now."

"Big Daddy Johns?" Both of Rick's eyebrows rose. "He like Billy?"

"Fuck, no. Totally different; th' man's got standards. Refreshing, in fact. Even got us a couple of Hogs of our own recently." At that, my mate grinned wickedly. I couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, we'll go ridin' sometime soon."

"Think our girl c'n get him t' play dumb while we weed out th' Vagos bunch?"

"Guaranteed. He made this face when they hailed us—disgusted look. With th' girl added in…"

"Let's go play, then." I followed Rick through the broken terrain, his 'Dog' on my heels, until we reached an outcrop just within extreme hearing range of the station. The sun was setting, a moon wreathed in volcanic activity rising above the opposite horizon. As we settled in, the brindled canid prowled further along the ridge and disappeared.

"I'm telling you, this is _total_ overkill," I heard one of the members of Clan Vagos grouse to his friend as they stood watch. "What, twelve of us out here now? Shoulda been a four-man op, tops."

"You are jinxin' our janx, man," his comrade retorted. "An' that ain't cool."

"Hey, I don't give a shit what they say. He's _one guy_." I sniggered.

"Whatever you say, man."

"He's one guy," the first merc repeated to himself.

Then Boss wandered out of the building, a cup in hand and Dahl a few steps behind. The Vagos leader—Rick's 'Box-Boy'—was fiddling with his Cyclops unit.

"So I guess that's what passes for a fucking moon on this planet." After taking a sip of his drink, Boss continued. "It's gonna be a dark night. Advantage, him. Maybe he's gonna wear you down first. Force you to go without sleep."

"Can't you see I'm busy?" the other man snarled.

"Just sharing my thoughts."

"Well, now that you _have_ , can I _politely_ invite you to step off my fucking porch?!" Box-Boy waved one arm in a mock-polite gesture. Boss smirked, looking pleased that he'd been successful in needling the man.

"I'll start rotating down. You let me know, huh?"

Next to me, my mate chuckled, amused with the byplay.

"As soon as I have his head in a box, I will let you know."

A few minutes later, the security system fixed on something off in the direction Dog had gone. The throbbing twang of the alarm brought everyone visible to a high alert.

"Grid 29D," the Vagos leader relayed as he worked the Cyclops' controls. "Stand by, stand by."

"Whatcha got, cuz?" his second asked, audible from Rick's radio tap.

"Ah, some dingo-dongo thing." Box-Boy turned the sound off, and his men relaxed.

"Yeah, I see it now," the big grunt replied. "Want me t' pop it?"

"Knock it down. One shot, suppressed." As the big idiot aimed, I could see that his assault rifle only had sights, no scope. Was he _that_ sure of himself?

The firearm discharged with a crack, but there was no answering pained yelp.

"Nice work, Diaz," Box-Boy drawled sarcastically. "Encouraging."

"Had somethin' in my eye." I stifled a snort at the exceedingly flimsy excuse.

"It's called a scope," came the retort. "Try it next time."

"You got this, right?" The greasy bastard whipped around to see Boss watching through a window.

"Will you _get off_ my _fucking frequency!_ " Someone—probably Boss himself—rotated the slats closed.

"Any second now." Rick glanced along the path the canid had taken as he muttered. The Cyclops went off again just moments before the brindled creature reappeared, the handle of a remote sensor between his jaws. The machine was so confused by its moving relay that it swiveled one way and paused, then turned to face another area. Accepting the device from Dog, my lover proceeded to smash it against the stone, making the central unit behave even more erratically. The Vagos leader scrambled, finally yanking the power supply cable.

"Thank _fucking_ God!" one of his men shouted as soon as the noise died—loud enough that the radios were unnecessary.

"Fuck off!" Box-Boy called back before adjusting his earpiece. Then he reached into a case. "Rubio, coming your way now. Gotta swap out a bad sensor."

Naturally, that was when one of the inside microphones began to pick up a conversation. I shifted my attention.

"What was supposed t' be here versus what we've found," Dahl stated.

"How's it square?" Boss asked, though he was probably already scanning the report.

"Pretty good. I mean, th' morphine's gone, but that's _always_ th' first thing t' go." The blonde paused. " _That_ was a bit weird, though."

"'Predator restraint with one hundred and seven centimeter offset jaws.'" He sounded mystified by the description.

"Six listed, zero found." I blinked, astonished. Those were fucking _man_ -traps, and would be truly lethal. Rick chuckled evilly, and I glanced around to check on the boy's position; he was behind his teammate, thankfully.

"That _is_ an odd thing to go for a walk," Boss murmured.

"Yeah, but you know how shit goes missin' from these stations. One bad year, an' guys are rippin' stuff off for salvage." That seemed to end the little conference.

"Hey, Santana?" the older man asked via the radio a minute or so later. "You _did_ sweep the area before I got here, right?"

"Sweep for what?" The filthy merc slowed down.

"I just want to make sure no one has set any traps for us." Given the tone of voice, I suspected Boss was smirking.

"Traps? What kind of traps?"

"The kind with jaws."

Santana stopped completely, allowing his tech to get several steps ahead. The subordinate kicked something that made a loud, metallic noise. His employer froze as he reached down.

"Don't touch that fucking thing!" he whisper-yelled. The tech—presumably Rubio—glanced back at him, but pulled the object out of the gravel anyway.

"What?" He brandished the battered metal plate he'd found; Santana sagged noticeably as the item got tucked beneath Rubio's shirt. "Up-armor." He patted his chest, then continued on his way. Moments later, his blood-curdling screams rent the air.

The transmissions from Rick's microphones inside and the radios outside turned into bedlam. I heard Moss and Lockspur's voices beneath Box-Boy's frantic instruction for his man to stay put, and the questions from the rest of Clan Vagos.

Then, with an audible, metallic thump, Rubio's screams ended forever.

"Who the hell was that screaming and why?" one of Santana's men demanded. Dog darted away from us, vanishing into the gloom.

"Nunez," the leader began, his voice tremulous. "Break out the sweep gear. And figure out how many of these big-ass traps we got out here, okay?" _Finally_ the man was starting to respect my mate's capabilities. "I'm thinking maybe the whole upper-left quad is some kind of fucking mine field." I could see Santana slowly moving back the way he'd come, gingerly feeling around before shifting his weight to the next foot. "You got to do that _now_ , okay, Nunez?" Near-silence answered him. "Copy that, Nunez?" No response. "Nunez?"

"This is bad." That sounded like the kid, and I could just see him moving in short, rapid bursts. "This is very bad."

"Nunez!" One of the other men shouted the name at the top of his lungs. "Nunez!"

"Shut the fuck up, _puto_!" Box-Boy snapped harshly. "His radio just crapped out. Someone get eyes on him." Now all four men split up to search. "Make sure he's right where he's supposed to be—13H. Go, go, go!"

As the station's exterior buzzed with activity, an odd sort of cat-like chirp sounded from the pocket where I'd stashed the earpiece provided by Boss for our jobs. Part of my earlier preparations had been to turn off all but its most secure channel. Rick heard it, too, drawing his attention away from the chaos below as I dug the equipment out of its hiding place.

"Spine-cat calls?" he asked, and I nodded. Neither Boss nor Dahl had been able to identify what animals Jack and I had mimicked when we came up with our series of basic codes, but they had diligently become 'fluent' in the sequences we'd worked out.

"Jack," I murmured in explanation, just loud enough for him to hear as I hooked the device over my ear. A few small sounds emerged from my throat, shortly answered by additional noises in a different pattern. "Vagos hasn't tapped th' team's private channel, an' Dahl's strugglin' not t' laugh at 'em." My lover grinned at the information, then pointed back toward the station.

"Time t' really fuck with their heads: make one almost disappear, but give 'em a glimpse of me draggin' him away." As though cued, Dog showed up again, the side of his muzzle gleaming darkly as my mate grunted at him and melted into the red-tinged gloom.

"Been makin' him communicate, huh?" A scratch under the canid's chin turned into a vigorous rub behind his odd-shaped, erect ears. "I'm glad he's had you for company." With a satisfied noise, he laid down beside me and rolled so I could get at his belly if I chose to, trusting me wholly.

 _~Such lovely lines, th' way he's been put together. Hyena-like down th' top of th' neck and shoulders, with a greyhound chest an' back end. Coat's a bit dark for this area, maybe from another part of the planet? That would explain why I haven't seen any others like him.~_ Part of me knew I was trying to distract myself while Rick was putting himself in harm's way.

"Right here," one of Santana's men growled harshly. "13H. He's supposed to be right fucking…" He trailed off, and Dog licked his chops.

 _~Kill site number two.~_

"So this was overkill, huh?" Ah, so the bickering pair were the ones to find Nunez. "Twelve of us, too many. Yeah. You know _all_ about Riddick, right?" The more cautious man was snarling; they had turned to guard each other's six, staying in motion to keep from developing any blind spots. "Well, maybe you need to take that shit back! Take the jinx off our janx. You understand me? That's what you need to do, Falco. You need to unjinxelate our fucking janx!" Only then did he seem to realize that his friend hadn't responded to his tirade. "Don't mess with me now," he warned futilely. The merc screwed up his courage and whirled, only to see a broad back and clean-shaven head preceding his comrade's limp body before both figures disappeared into the dark.

Then the kid all but ran over the shell-shocked merc, who jumped sky-high.

"Hey, hey, what is it?" 'Squeaker' blurted. "What is it?"

"Get back!" A gun was suddenly in his face.

"It's me, it's me!"

"He's got Falco!" the older man yelled before he turned and fired wildly toward where he'd seen Rick. He was off the mark, of course; good tactics meant that my mate had gone around one of the huge boulders which littered the landscape. The kid added to the useless barrage with an incoherent shout.

"Jock up, but you're staying here," I heard Boss order via my earpiece. "No one's going out there until I say so."

Clan Vagos was in an utter panic.

"Man down," repeated the merc who'd been there. "He's got Falco."

"How the fuck did he do that?" My team leader sounded genuinely surprised—yet another person who didn't know a thing about Rick's past, his military and Special Ops training.

"Never even saw him, man." Falco's friend was now babbling. "He was right here and I never…"

"What about the ships?" Boss asked insistently. "Is he on one?"

"He's not coming for the _ships_ , he's coming for _us_!" Tense calm reigned inside the building, chaos outside. "Just fucking shoot! Shoot!" The jumpy mercs opened up again; Dog got to his feet, chuffed at me, and headed away from the station. I followed.

Tonight's demonstration was over.


	8. Chapter 8

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Eight**

Watching Vargas prep his comrades' remains for transport, she marveled once again at Rick's gift for causing mayhem. Santana's remaining team members had stayed on their toes and nervous until the arrival of full daylight, only then retrieving the bodies. Luna had muttered something in her general direction—when the other three weren't looking at him—about the girl being gone when he looked. The injuries to Nunez appeared to have been made by some animal's teeth and claws; Rubio had essentially been cut into four pieces.

"One night, three dead," Vargas sighed. "Not sure I'm lovin' this trend."

"Two dead, one missing." Such hope in the kid's voice when he had to know Falco was gone already.

" _Exactly_. Three dead." The older merc shook his head regretfully.

"Well, look at it this way, boys." Diaz manipulated his chewing tobacco briefly and spat. "We might all fit in one ship now."

Jack suppressed a smirk; the message in blood on the station's door was _genius_. But if it weren't for her and Eileen's intention to leave with Rick instead of Boss, the neater, newer ship would have been crowded with their current numbers. Possibly enough so that they'd have needed to leave a couple of the Hogs behind. Not an option Boss would willingly agree to, as the hover-bikes were both expensive and extremely useful on jobs.

 _~I'd prefer t' take Luna with us, instead of leavin' him in reach of fucking Santana and Diaz.~_ The thought actually startled her. She'd never felt an inclination to add someone to the pack who wasn't Furyan. Of course, any of their people who had been missed by Zhylaw's assassins belonged to Rick and Eileen; they were the only survivors who were qualified to lead, by the race's laws and customs.

So why would she want to add a normal kid to their small, tightly-knit family? Why had she warned him to be very careful at night?

Metallic clanking preceded Santana into the cleared yard of the station. Two heavy chains, attached to enormous steel jaw traps, had the slimy little man straining to drag them in. As he flung the links to the ground, Jack could see dried blood on the jagged teeth.

"Diaz!" Clan Vagos' leader was snarling mad, and she was glad that the rest of Boss' team was inside. "Get those other traps back here. Luna, say something… Bible-like over these bodies." The still-edgy young man knelt obediently, pulling a small book from a pocket over his heart.

 _~Bastard fuckin'_ _ **mocks**_ _his faith.~_ Bristling, Jack followed him through the door, determined to show him the sharp side of her tongue. Maybe her katana, too. But she hesitated as he sat down at the table, facing Boss and Dahl, who'd lingered over their breakfasts. Her own untouched plate sat by the blonde's elbow, probably cold by now.

"Okay, maybe we zero this out." Santana's voice sounded polite enough, but she also sensed an angry undertone. "What's your tag, anyway?"

"So _now_ you wanna know my name." The graying man leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "Well, I'm not sure I'm gonna say. Because everyone you know by name, Santana, winds up dead."

The courteous façade vanished as the smaller man slapped her plate aside, the egg-substitute and imitation bacon protein strips flying everywhere. Dahl stood up, looming over him, her shoulders tense with rage.

"You gonna clean this shit up?" she demanded. The bastard responded with an oily smirk and a string of Spanish—a little-used language which Jack hadn't bothered to learn, aside from a few expletives. Given his expression, she was pretty sure he'd said something insulting and sexual.

The blonde's reaction confirmed it; her right arm drew back as her left hand grabbed the front of Santana's shirt. Three solid shots landed before the older woman reined herself in.

"Excuse me," Lockspur murmured, vacating the immediate area in favor of joining Moss by the Hogs. The Vagos leader shook his head, dazed, with his nose already swelling and changing color.

"Watch out for surprise attacks," Boss deadpanned.

"Maybe…" Santana dug out a piece of cloth to press near the damage. "Maybe it's time to start merging assets, right?"

"So this is you asking for my help?"

"This is me saying that I may need some of your gear." Jack snorted at the flimsy attempt to avoid the word 'help'. "If some of your guys happen to come attached to that gear, I will understand that's the way it's gotta be." Both men walked across the room, stopping next to the hover-bikes. At least the two truly customized vehicles remained aboard ship, still under their dust covers.

"So you're asking for my gear's help."

"More like that," Santana confirmed with a nod. Boss turned to his dark-skinned mechanics specialist.

"Moss…" Her friend moved closer to one bike, leaning forward as though the handlebars were whispering to him. Then he looked back up, loathing for the scumbags in his eyes.

"Th' gear's sayin' 'Nah.' Bitch." Whether he meant the last word as a noun or verb was anyone's guess.

"There's your answer." The former military man shrugged and turned toward the rack holding his armor, followed by Dahl and Lockspur.

"What the fuck do you want, man?" Desperation finally entered the foul man's demeanor.

"You know what?" Jack's teammates helped lift the heavy chest and back segments over Boss' head. "I'm gonna fold you in, Santana. But I give orders to Dahl, and Dahl's gonna give orders to _you_. And that's the chain of command from this point forward."

 _~He's doing a damned good job with the acting.~_

"Why am I not liking this plan?" the asshat asked rhetorically as he turned away. "Oh, I know, I know. You know why?" He faced Boss again, spitting his next words. "Because it sucks ass and swallows! I'm not taking orders from your pet whore who thinks I won't smack her right back…" The brunette winced and hissed as Dahl stalked past the man, then gave him another right as she drew even. His legs went out from underneath him this time—probably because the angle of the blow had changed by ninety degrees—and he ended up slumped against a safety rail.

"I don't fuck guys," the blonde snarled, then quirked a malicious grin. "Occasionally I fuck 'em up if they need it." Then she continued on her way, headed for the bunk area.

"I help," Jack added in a bright tone, deciding to go outside. "An' I have fun doin' it." The sun on her face and the door between herself and the vile little man eased something within, but she kept an ear tuned to the 'conversation'. Luna emerged from the Vagos ship, seeming bowed down by an invisible burden.

"Here's what's gonna happen," she heard Boss begin. "You're gonna take a back seat. We'll track Riddick down, I promise. But I want him alive. You give me a day, and after that he's yours."

 _~Good. That'll give th' kid a break from the action.~_

"You're giving me the bounty?"

"You pay my crew, fuel costs; the rest is yours. That's the deal."

"What is Riddick to you?" Suspicion entered Santana's voice. "Not just some convict. What do you want? Why are you here? Who _are_ you?"

"My name is Johns." A weapon slid into its holster. "Lock down those ships, get those Hogs on deck! I will ride with Moss and Lockspur." Ah, there were his usual brisk tactical instructions. "I want a non-lethal load-out, LODs and phosphor frags to start with. This is a man who hunts by night; we'll take it to him by day." Boss strode out, winking at her as he passed. "Jack, you're in charge of security. Diaz, Vargas! Show me the spot of the last kill."

 _~Thanks, old man. Maybe I can even get Luna t' sleep.~_

When the two grimy mercs only went just past their ship and stopped, the brunette doubled over, shoving a fist against her mouth to stifle her mirth at how close Rick had gotten. As she'd hoped, the team radio channel switched on, and Jack eavesdropped shamelessly as she kept an eye on the kid.

"Some kind of canine," Lockspur said eventually. He held down the positions of team scout, tracker, and infiltration specialist. Quiet, sneaky, and still something of a cipher to her. The four sets of feet she could just see moved out of sight.

As the brunette leaned against the building and listened, her concern for Luna—at a guess, his max actual awake age was maybe twenty, making him the youngest human on the planet—grew. He sank to the ground on the other side of the 'porch', drew his knees up, wrapped his arms around them, and put his head down. She frowned.

"Tired?" His shoulders moved in a shrug, but that was his only response. "Th' dead girl?" He nodded, still not looking up. "I hate when I'm right about shit like that."

"Think I was the only one who _didn't_ do anything to her," the kid muttered, sounding miserable. "Except try to keep her fed, hydrated, and treat any injuries they gave her."

"They would've come down on you hard if you'd tried t' help her any more than that, wouldn't they?" It was a stab in the dark, but given the way they'd behaved around people they had no control over…

"Probably." Barely a whisper, the word sounded like he'd had to force it out. Her earpiece beeped, and Jack made a sound so Luna wouldn't think she was ignoring him.

"Hey, Diaz, I got a dog here." She snorted, knowing that Boss had gotten out his handheld scope. "Is it the same dingo-dongo thing from last night?"

"Nah, I'm pretty sure we killed that one." She could _feel_ the disbelief in the silence before the big fucker reluctantly spoke again. "Could be th' same one."

"The same," her teammates chorused.

"Dahl, get your sniper rifle and barium rounds."

Her 'baby' hoisted on her left shoulder and ammo case in her right hand, the blonde strode around the ship, hoping neither of the older Furyans was nearby. Boss had, as usual, found a good spot for her to set up, where she could be relatively comfortable in a prone position. There was even a small dip in the rock that had been filled with gravel to help stabilize the rifle's kickstand.

The specialized sniper's weapon was nearly as long as she was tall, and weighed a good thirty kilos.

"Fifteen hundred meters," her friend said as she loaded a brass-cased slug marked with glowing green triangle, rotating the breech and latching it, then adjusting the purely mechanical scope. She found the creature easily, sitting in front of a small, rocky ridge. Against any native creature, its position in a natural recess would have been very defensible; as it was, the opening gave her no trouble whatsoever.

 _~Breathe in, breathe out, squeeze.~_ The powerful rifle bucked, and the projectile missed by maybe two centimeters. Even as Dahl loaded a second round, she was tracking the animal's movement with her eyes. Now it was stretched out in a run, moving diagonally away from the station, covering ground easily with its long legs. But her second shot hit its left flank; it stumbled, but kept going.

She glanced up with a smile—on the move was more difficult to hit than sitting still—as Boss checked his handheld tracker for the signal.

"Good hunting."

"Of course. You're in charge of the station until we get back."

 _~Oh, great. Sulking, lousy excuses for mercs t' deal with.~_ The Hogs roared away with the maker's signature rumble. _~Well, since Jack can help keep an eye on them, maybe I can manage t' bathe.~_

Then again, the girl appeared to have developed an unnatural fascination with the only decent male remaining behind.

 _~If I can get her t' pay attention t' anybody else.~_

I watch Big Daddy Johns an' his boys head out, followin' th' trace they've got on Dog. Yeah, he'll go t' th' lair, but nothin' important is there anymore. Just th' body of th' merc I grabbed last night.

They shoulda known better than t' take me lightly.

 _I'm_ actually lurkin' around th' station; Eileen's out like a light, layin' on top of Big Daddy's ship an' soakin' up some sun while she sleeps. Apparently I'm used t' bein' awake for longer stretches than she is, now.

What's happenin' with Jack an' Squeaker's enough t' make a cat laugh. Th' fixation on her part is vaguely familiar, but I can't pin down why. Th' boy doesn't know how t' handle the attention, which is makin' him a little more jumpy than he already was.

What kinda hold does Santana have on th' kid t' make him stay with people he obviously dislikes so much?

While I'm lookin' around, I find a broken window that doesn't have louvers on it—major security breach. As I sneak up, I hear water runnin' and take a peek. Huh. Th' sharpshooter's washin' up, stripped t' th' waist. I heard her earlier comment about not fuckin' men, so it might be fun t' yank her chain a bit. Not _too_ hard, since my girls like her, an' I think she's smart enough t' realize I'm teasin', not comin' on t' her.

Her dock kit is unrolled right under th' window. My target is th' compact near th' middle, 'cause it's bound t' have a mirror we can use t' check out areas in th' ships an' building without much risk.

Just for th' hell of it, I reach for th' back of her neck an' get pretty close before switchin' t' my real target. Liftin' th' makeup is easy; looks like I've still got th' touch I cultivated as a kid. By th' time she dries off an' realizes her shit's missin', I'm out of sight again. She puts herself together, then stalks outta th' head, fumin'. I dart around an' slip through an unlatched skylight in th' main room in time t' hear her an' Box-Boy get into it again.

"Boom," th' sleazebag mutters.

"Were you just perving out on me somehow?" th' blonde shoots back after a pause. I hear a sort of kissy sound.

"May all your dreams come true, baby." Dickwad.

"You've got two minutes." I think he's been tryin' t' push her buttons an' has finally succeeded. "I want you out on fuckin' perimeter watch."

Waking from my nap on top of Boss' ship, I found a small metal case set by my hand. Dahl's makeup, certainly lifted by my mate, and figuring out why he left it with me wasn't difficult. A glimpse over the side of the vessel showed that the main hatch was open, with the kid standing a few steps away and someone rummaging around inside. It sounded like they were digging in the spare parts bin.

I carefully eased open the latch on my escape route from two days earlier and reached down, the open compact in hand so I could look around with the mirror. One of the power nodes was missing—not an action the old soldier would undertake on his own, since it eliminated his line of retreat.

Which meant that Santana's ship was probably similarly disabled, and both units were probably secured somewhere inside.

Bastard.

"This is Johns to any-goddamn-body at the station," my earpiece suddenly relayed. He sounded _pissed_. "I want you to keep an eye on that locker. Keep an eye on the nodes. Riddick may have made an end run. My ETA is seven minutes, but watch your back."

 _~No 'may have' about it,~_ I thought.

Despite being on the same side, it was fun to play head games with Boss.

I've found a fairly stable spot in th' rafters when th' blonde storms back inside; it's been more like five minutes than two. An' pullin' back th' slide on her pistol then slappin' it on th' table only kinda gets Box-Boy's attention.

"All right, you little bitch," she mutters before raising her voice. "Your two minutes are up. You gonna do what I tell you to do?"

"Rumor is Riddick might be in the vicinity." Asshole takes a pull on his cigarette. "Thought I should just check on the locker." Wrong thing t' say when faced with an angry woman who knows how t' take someone apart.

"Get outside, get on your optics, and _get after this fucker_!" Th' sharpshooter points, an' I hafta admire her actin' skills, 'cause she sounds like she thinks I'm a danger to everyone on th' planet. "You're not gonna find him here."

Santana, t' my surprise, actually heads for th' door. I realize it's a ruse right before he flings his cancer stick into th' woman's face, followin' it with a punch an' a body-slam that puts her on th' floor. His hands encircle her throat while he straddles her, keepin' her legs from bein' useful for fightin' him.

I ease a knife out of its sheath, in case I hafta intervene. I'm not gonna let this scumbag seriously damage Eileen's friend.

"Actually, Dahl, I think we have something in common." His voice is rough, like she's gotten her own mitts on _his_ neck. "I don't fuck guys either." Then he does somethin'—I can't see what—that gets a scream of rage outta her.

Amid th' commotion, I drop down, dart over t' th' locker, nick my finger with th' knife, an' accomplish what I meant t' do in th' first place. I'm halfway through when th' door slams open, sending me into th' shadows where it's damn hard t' see me. But th' new arrival is Jack, who winks in my general direction before layin' into th' bastard. I finish quickly an' get back into th' rafters right before Squeaker peers inside an' th' ladies succeed in hurlin' Santana up over th' safety rail.

While Little Sis checks Dahl briefly, I hear a trio of Hogs outside. My woman slips in through th' skylight as Santana's two remainin' bully-boys shove th' kid through th' door in front of themselves.

 _~Uh-huh. They 'can ball with anyone.'_ _ **Right**_ _.~_ Still, it means th' youngest sees my message before anyone else notices it. A few moments later, Big Daddy an' one of his boys walk in, an' th' blonde nods toward th' locker.

"You need to see this," she says. Th' Vagos trio moves aside, an' he stares for a second.

"He wrote that?"

"He took out our deep-space communications. All of it," Santana's middle boy adds. I stifle a laugh; wasn't really me, but Jack ain't gonna say shit.

"And whose blood is that?" Billy's old man starts pointin'. "There… Here… Over there…" Th' women glance at each other, an' Box-Boy's number two rolls his eyes.

"We had to kick his ass again. Sorry." Th' sharpshooter isn't in th' least.

"Not really," Jack chirps. "He asked for it."

"Fuck it." Th' sleazebag goes t' th' locker, pullin' th' key off his neck. "Let's take a look at this." He gets three clicks in before Big Daddy speaks up.

"Stop." It's like fuckin' tennis or somethin', th' way heads keep turnin' from one t' th' other. "That key leave your neck?"

"Never." Santana looks a little baffled t' be asked that.

"Well," Boss points out, "the only reason to write 'fair trade' is if he got into that locker and he took something out. Something that we need, like a _power node_ , which he could then swap for something _he_ needs."

"Wow, all that?" Fucker's oozin' sarcasm. "Highly unlikely." Okay, now his disregard for my intelligence an' skills is gettin' annoyin'.

"Let me join the fucking dots for you, Santana." Th' old man lowers his voice an' looms. "Here's what I'm saying. If he _did_ get in there somehow, he was in a position to relock it and change the code."

"Could be entering the wrong shit," th' big jamoke adds.

"So…" Santana stops an' rubs his jaw, makin' a sound like somethin' solid's movin' in there. Loosened tooth from th' ladies, maybe. "You think, sometime during the last few hours, he got this off my neck without me noticing, did whatever he did, and put the fucking key _back_ on my fucking neck without my fucking noticing? Where did you get that theory from? A unicorn's ass?"

"There's a reason he is who he is." Th' dark-skinned man shrugs off a glare for his comment.

"He's a _convict_ , not some Zulu warlock."

"You know what you know," Boss concedes, walkin' away. I lean over an' whisper in Eileen's ear.

"If he's actin', he deserves a goddamn Oscar." She grins back an' nods. More proof of th' differences between father an' son.

Of course, now Box-Boy's so rattled he can't finish unlockin' th cabinet.

"This is crazy!" he blurts. "This is fucking _crazy_. The first three clicks were good. It did not go off."

"You can get three clicks in Russian roulette." Big Daddy's boy crosses his arms. "Don't mean you get four, motherfucker." I'm startin' t' like his attitude.

"You know what, Santana?" Dahl's just managin' not t' smirk. "For once, I actually agree with you. I think you're good."

"Shut up," he snaps. We're really gettin' under his skin as a fuckin' _group_. Asshat nods at th' big jamoke. "Do you think we're good?"

Th' guy backs up another meter before he answers. "I think you're good, cuz."

"You're fuckin' good," th' blonde prods. "Just butch up."

"Sounds like your department, _lesbo_ ," he sneers back.

"Neither of us is opening that thing," Jackie snarls.

"Oh, yes, you fucking are!" Santana pulls a machete an' starts toward them. Dahl whips out a pistol, Jack th' katana I almost didn't see strapped to her back. It starts a chain reaction, everybody pointing a weapon except Boss.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Th' man's either been a drill sergeant or learned from a good one. "Use your fucking brains! We are _not_ gonna do Riddick's work for him! Put your weapons _down_." He waves at th' locker. "And have a look at _that_. He was here. Right fucking there. Santana, put your fucking sword _away_." Box-Boy reluctantly does so, an' th' rest relax.

"Don't fucking open it, then," he says, walkin' away.

"Well, the problem with that, Santana, is that if we never open that locker, we never leave." Boss ain't happy about havin' been put in this position.

It takes some grumblin', but everyone gets down into th' lower level of th' station except Santana, who paces a bit.

"…the strength of my life, of Whom shall I be afraid…" Hearin' Squeaker's religious muttering, I look at Eileen an' roll my eyes. Box-Boy finally bites th' figurative bullet.

"Four." He takes a deep breath when it only clicks.

"Try five," Boss urges, shoulderin' th' kid aside an' half-shieldin' him. Santana breathes in again.

"Five. And…"

A loud bang makes everyone jump; th' dark-skinned guy looks up all innocent, his hand flat on th' table with th' dominos.

"Oops." His long-haired buddy punches his shoulder, an' Dahl looks back at 'em.

"Wish I'd have thought of that," she mutters. Jack grins, all teeth.

Th' chief asshat collects himself again an' turns th' key with a yell.

"Six!" His device beeps an' powers down. "Six." Th' ladies make a pair of surprised noises. "Six..." Santana sags as his middle boy steps up.

"You are a shitstorm trooper, Santana. I'll give you that."

"You beat th' devil this time," murmurs th' prankster.

"Moss," Eileen whispers, identifyin' him for me.

"Didn't think he was actually gonna do it." Th' brunette grins, mischief in her eyes. She knows what's comin'.

Squeaker stops dead, spine ramrod straight. "This is a sign."

"Ah." Th' middle guy opens up th' locker, ignorin' th' kid. "Sweet." Th' nodes are still there, of course.

"I believe this is a sign." Th' boy says it louder this time, actually gettin' attention. "It may be that the good Lord wants us to take these nodes and flee this planet just as soon as we can."

Ah, fuck. Just as I was startin' t' _like_ th' brat, too. Fuckin' religion.

"That's my good luck charm," Box-Boy drawls, lightin' up again.

"Wrong business, kid." Dahl pats his shoulder. Walkin' behind th' blonde, Little Sis just reaches up an' smacks th' back of his head.

An' just about jumps outta her skin, like she's touched a live wire. My woman puts her hands over her mouth an' starts shakin', keepin' her giggles silent. I'll save my questions 'til we're away from th' station.

"You know," Moss comments, "I was kinda hoping th' bomb would go off." Santana's bunch heads outside; Jackie looks like she wants t' follow Squeaker, but joins Boss' group around th' table instead. A holomap comes out, one panel on th' fritz, an' they start discussin' what th' men found while they were out on th' Hogs.

"We sealed up his caves with some phosphor frags here, so he can't go back." Yeah, I'm glad I cleared out what little I wanna keep. "And just like an animal, he's gonna head to known ground. But we're gonna find he's got three or four lairs out there. So we'll radius out from this point, here." Seems like th' smartass has already heard this plan, 'cause he looks around an' heads back toward th' locker. "Now, radio comms… I saw three repeaters listed in inventory. Find them, set them up at regular intervals. I never want to be out of touch like that again."

Moss looks at th' nodes, then closes th' doors on 'em an' glances up. His holster clicks open; he's seen the open skylight an' walks behind th' cabinet t'investigate. It's what I've been waitin' for, so th' moment he's outta sight of th' rest, my right hand's under his jaw an' he's backed up against th' locker. Naturally, th' merc's eyes go saucer-sized, showin' sclera all th' way around his dark irises.

"Are you scared of me?" I keep my voice down.

"Y-yeah." Just for shits an' giggles, I add a blade t' th' mix.

"Are _they_ scared of me?" Let him decide who 'they' means.

"Yes, they're scared of you."

"Maybe you're all scared of th' wrong thing." I feel a light thump next t' me; Eileen stretches up t' peck me on th' cheek, then shoots a grin at Moss. With a little finger-wigglin' wave, my mate darts around th' locker t' grab th' nodes.

Th' man's eyes just about fall out of his head. In fact, he's so shocked that it takes no effort whatsoever t' plant his ass on a convenient shelf before I accept a power unit an' follow Eileen up t' th' skylight. We don't completely leave just yet, crouchin' outta sight on th' roof.

"Lockspur, I want you to lock down those Hogs, all right?" Seems Boss hasn't missed his boy yet. "I don't want this guy any more mobile than he already is. Now Dahl, I spotted a nice little nest for you, right here in these low hills."

"Moss?" Sounds like his buddy came lookin' for him.

"I just saw him."

"Say again?"

"I just saw him. An' our vanished friend." Th' jaw hittin' th' floor is almost audible, quickly followed by th' creak of cheap hinges, feet headed away, an' th' station door slammin'.

"Dahl, I want you to sit on this ship! Diaz, make sure your ship is locked down!" Big Daddy's doin' a solid impression of royally pissed. "The rest of you get on the fucking perimeter and keep your eyes on each other! Santana! He got the fucking nodes!"

An' that's our cue t' leave.

Once we got well away from the building, I released the hold I'd put on my amusement and almost bent over double as I laughed. Dog joined us, touching my elbow with his cool, damp nose. Rick cocked an eyebrow and waited for me to explain.

"I think we gave Moss a heart attack." That got me a partial smile. "Jack, though…" I dissolved in sniggering again. "Remember when I gave you that first pair of goggles on T-2? Th' way we seemed t' zap each other?" My lover nodded. "That's why she jumped."

"Jack and _Squeaker_?" Momentary disbelief turned into a broad, evil grin. "This's gonna be fuckin' hilarious."

"An' she was feelin' bummed, thinkin' there might not be a 'right guy' for her. That she wouldn't get a bond like ours." I smirked. "Such an innocent kid. Has no _clue_ what's about t' hit him."

"Not th' foggiest," Rick agreed before kissing me. "It'll amuse Niklas an' Marcus, too." We could both feel the Omega and Beta getting closer, astronomically speaking. It didn't take any effort to realize they were looking for us.

"Be nice if we could find their mates, too." Once we arrived at the sandy 'clearing', digging began in silence, occasionally interrupted for smooches. Mushroom-shaped rocks surrounded and sheltered the soft patch of sediment, and Dog sprawled on top of one, keeping a watch of sorts.

As we used folding shovels to tamp down our excavation, the canid went on alert with a growl that escalated into a yipping howl. Then he leapt down and crept forward, peering southward. Dark clouds swarmed the horizon, rumbling with thunder. My mate knelt to put a comforting arm around his four-legged friend.

"I know," he soothed. "It's coming." He turned to me. "Look at th' ground underneath. That's why gettin' mercs here had t' happen now." Shapes writhed, faintly visible, beneath the curtains of rain.

Well, fuck.

"So then we just combine nodes." For all the importance of the argument and its subject, Jack couldn't focus on it. "Pull one from that ship, put it in this ship, you know? Amps is amps, right?"

 _~No, they aren't Dahl,~_ she thought absently, her eyes staying on the increasingly-jumpy Luna. That shock earlier…

"It's not about amps," Vargas corrected. "It's about what each ship is rated to draw. You miss by even a few millijoules an' you fry every chip you've got."

"Okay, so figure it out." Unfortunately, the blonde didn't have the best aptitude for electronics. "Get th' difference an' just _do_ it. Jailbreak th' fuckin' thing." The merc facing her sighed.

"I could give you a crash course on thermodynamic equilibrium and energy exchange right now, or maybe you just want to take my god _damn_ word for it."

"I get it, I get it." Thankfully, Boss stepped in. "The ships are incompatible. We're not gonna fly without the nodes back."

"Why do I feel like we just cut off our own nuts here?" Diaz griped.

"Probably because we _did_." She found herself spitting the words at the big asshole in chorus with her friend, but he ignored them.

"How about I take one of those jet hogs, two days' worth of food, and go out and hunt this fucker down myself?" he continued.

"Hell no!" Jack felt herself bristle. Lockspur had secured the hover-bikes inside their ship, racked next to the ones that had been given to her and Eileen. Anybody who grabbed a Hog now couldn't possibly miss the extras.

"Bad idea, Diaz," Sleazebag Santana agreed. "One-on-one with Riddick?"

"I might be able to get the emergency beacon working again," Vargas suggested.

"Isn't that like an ambulance calling for an ambulance?" It seemed like Lockspur was trying to pick up Moss' usual snark factor.

"It's backup for th' fuckin' backup," Dahl confirmed. "We can't."

"I thought _he_ was th' one stranded here."

"Yeah, well, looks like you thought wrong."

 _~Asshole.~_

"Long wait for backup," a familiar but missed voice said on the radio. "In case you were thinkin' about fixin' th' beacon an' callin' for help."

"Falco's radio." Vargas looked up from a small control box, gone pale.

 _~Duh.~_

"Riddick, I don't give a fuck about the backup." Damn, but the old man was acting masterfully. "Because I've still got all kinds of gear that can ruin your day in a hurry. So you go find another fucking cave. You keep runnin', keep hidin'. Doesn't matter t' me none. Because in the end, I will _find you_!" His last words echoed off the rocks.

"Look south." Everyone pivoted at Rick's words; he walked toward them, brazenly, along the same mini-ravine where the dead girl had been a few days earlier. His clothes were more rough-and-tumble than anything she'd ever seen him wear, but that only made sense, since he'd probably made them from the hides of kills he'd made since he was dumped by the Necros.

"I don't believe it," Dahl muttered.

"Th' balls on this fuckin' guy."

 _~Coulda told you_ _ **that**_ _, Lockspur.~_

"Dahl, keep an eye on things here." As Boss moved forward, the rest of the team stepped back. Luna looked over at the brunette as she passed him.

"What should I do?" Despite the slight tremor in his voice—there because he had a _working brain_ , dammit—she felt a bit warmer than the weather called for.

"Stay low." Gratifyingly, he followed her advice, crouching and seeking cover. Sleazebag and Douchebag, though, followed the old man, and Jack didn't go far, hoping she'd be close enough to watch his back.

Rick shrugged off a ragged-edged cape as he approached, clearly indulging in a little theater, then disarmed himself of a pair of long knives. Boss reciprocated with his gauge and sidearm, then snarled over his shoulder—without looking—for his tagalongs to do the same. The young woman watched them all stop, the five-meter-long rock outcrop between them as thunder rolled.

"So what's th' bounty at?" her friend asked cheekily.

"I don't know." Her erstwhile employer shrugged. "I don't _care_. It's not why I'm here."

"I bet th' big jamoke knows." Rick grinned evilly.

"Yeah. I know exactly what it is." Diaz looked far too eager to take down the other big man.

"What I do know," Boss interjected, "is that it's double if you're brought back dead." As when she'd first seen the new incentive, Jack shivered.

"That's new." The former con tilted his head. "Will it be enough t' pay for your funerals?"

"What I'm interested in is a little backwater place with the system code M-344/G." The old man got an odd look from Rick. "I want to know what happened there ten years ago."

"The father." A slow smile creased the generous mouth. "Big Daddy Johns."

"Yeah, that's right."

"An' you traveled all this way just t' see me. I'm flattered."

"It's kind of strange, not knowing what to put down in the family Bible." The brunette squashed an urge to laugh; given Boss' view on religion in daily life, the statement was a veiled joke.

"It's kinda strange three guys hafta die just so you c'n hear…"

"No, no, no. You don't get to put that shit on me. Those kills are on you."

 _~More like on the overconfident asswipe who came here under-prepared an' underestimatin' his target.~_ If she got another chance to kick Santana's ass…

"I have a feelin' that's not th' only thing on me right now." Jack glanced around and spotted Lockspur and Dahl atop a boulder. Not worried about them, she turned back around, hearing an animal growl somewhere nearby.

 _~Of course he'd make friends with some local predator,~_ she mused.

"I hate to interrupt this discussion about ancient history, but maybe I should step right in here and introduce myself." Sleazebag stepped forward, and something moved in the brush. "My name is…"

"Box-Boy." She stifled another burst of amusement.

"Say what?"

"You _are_ th' guy who said that he was gonna put my head in a box, right?"

"Well, that was me…" Santana seemed to consider his words. "…spitting noise."

"But you _do_ have a box."

"Do I have a… box?"

"Thought I saw one." Rick looked toward the brush, then the rocks on the other side. Even odds, her sister hid there.

"I mean, of course I have a box. Everyone's got a box, man." The greasy little man chuckled nervously. "Even Diaz has a huge fucking box."

"Good. We're gonna use it." Another evil grin beneath the dark goggles. "Three down, nine left. Now, normally, I'd just keep goin'. Six down… Nine down… Ya get where I'm goin' with this. But things are changin' here, an' nobody wants t' be on this planet twenty-four hours from now. So I suggest we make this work."

Feeling a sudden dread, Jack looked around; other than a towering storm in the southwest, nothing appeared to be threatening anyone. Was the thunderstorm going to cause a major problem?

"What do you want, a gentleman's agreement?" Boss shook his head even as he asked.

"I'll leave one node in the open. You take it. The other node an' the other ship are mine."

"Hey, wait, wait." Santana frowned, confused. "What are we playing here, retard bingo? That was on the table from the start."

"For _get_ th' start." A crackle of lightning and thunder punctuated Rick's dismissal. "It's the end ya wanna think about now. See that?" His head turned to indicate the clouds. "I'll give ya 'til that rain hits that station. That's your clock." The old man eyes the weather cautiously, but his Vagos counterpart just fumed.

"'Box-Boy'…" he muttered. Without further warning, the bastard reached into one boot top, drawing a small pistol and pointing it at the retreating con. The brunette started to whistle a warning as a mottled brown-and-black form burst from the bushes to knock Santana off his feet. Rick spun to see what had happened; the animal, possibly some sort of canine, leapt at the merc again, knocking away the holdout weapon.

"Dahl! Do it now!" Boss yelled, going to one knee. Behind him, Diaz turned to retrieve his rifle as another figure hurtled into the fight, appearing from behind the rocks. The clean-shaven escaped con lunged for his dropped knives as the sharpshooter's weapon barked; the red circle of an autoinjector appeared as the man's shoulder was knocked back. Eileen, shrieking, grabbed Santana's left arm—the dog-thing had his right one—and immobilized it, away from the small pistol.

"Again!" Another report, and another tranquilizer load hit Rick. The old man clotheslined Douchebag and clubbed the back of his leg with his own rifle. "Do it again, Dahl!" The third round appeared low on the Furyan's left ribs, and he went to his knees. Santana flailed, trying to get to his little gun, but a small combat boot swung, knocking him out. Dusty and mussed, Eileen put her hands in the air as the canid sat back, its weight settling on the Vagos leader's shoulders.

Riddick, too, relaxed fractionally as Boss approached him. Jack didn't hear what they said to each other, her heartbeat thundering in her ears as a single punch laid out her brother-in-law. She rushed over to help her sister up as the speckled beast made anxious noises.

"Dog." The creature's attention came to a laser focus at Eileen's summons. "Stay with Jack."

" _That's_ what he named it?" The brunette blinked. "Remind me never t' consult him on kids' names." The older woman convulsed with giggles. " _What?_ "

"You've got a boyfriend." An aggravating smirk accompanied the singsong tone.

"Oh, _do_ shut up." Granted, she'd been hoping that she had a mate despite the odds, but how the hell was she going to go about having an amorous relationship with _anyone_? Especially with her pre-M-344/G history.

Fortunately, Eileen didn't pursue the subject as everyone moved or was moved inside again. Of the mercs, Diaz managed the shift under his own groggy power; Lockspur reluctantly dragged in the man's unconscious cousin. A terrified Vargas demanded that Rick be bound in the name of safety, but he failed to get enough support to have the same done with Jack's sister. Luna just watched everything in shocky silence.

Dusk fell as everyone waited for the prisoner to regain consciousness. Santana roused, and minutes later, the larger man's breathing rhythm changed. Shielding them from the core of Clan Vagos briefly, Boss winked reassuringly at the adoptive sisters, indicating that he would maintain his act just a bit longer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Nine**

Santana did, indeed, have a box, a Plexiglas cube slightly larger than a human head, fitted with cryo valves to preserve its contents during transit. With a veiled glare at its owner, Boss used the container like a tiny stool, setting it in front of Rick and perching on it.

"Riddick." My lover didn't respond, though I could tell from his breathing that he was awake. "Riddick?" Still no reply, and the old soldier hauled back and delivered a solid right with a grunt.

"Johns." Moss' chiding voice cut through the tense silence. "We beatin' men in chains now?" He got a chagrined grimace as Dahl tore apart a strip of medical tape to wrap around the toes of one foot.

"Okay, from the beginning." Rick had quit trying to pretend that he was unconscious, and Boss leaned forward. "For the historical record… The _Hunter-Gratzner_. That's the commercial vessel my son uses to transport you back to the slammer. But that ship sends a distress call somewhere near M-344/G. It's a backwater system with two suns, one habitable planet."

" _Three_ suns," I corrected absently, earning a mild glare.

"Does he survive the crash?"

"Big drama, th' next few hours." My mate appeared to ignore the question. "But whatever happens, no matter what they tell you, don't let 'em take these chains off me."

"Them? Who's 'them'?" The long-time merc shook his head. "Who are you talking… Do you know who you're talking to here?" But Boss wasn't Rick's current focus.

"That was for me?" Santana, apparently, had heard the warning for what it was.

"When th' chains come off…"

"Jesus _Christ_." The old man jumped up in well-faked frustration.

"Box-Boy, you go in th' first five seconds." My lover grinned maliciously.

"Really?" The asshole wasn't taking him seriously. "And you plan on killing me with what, your mouth?" He had drawn his machete, its highly polished blade reflecting bits of light.

"That shiny blade."

"I'd _love_ to see you try," Santana retorted sarcastically.

"For the historical record." Rick focused on Boss again. "He made it." That got the man to sit down again.

"So it's just you and him?"

"You _know_ better than that," came the retort. "Thirteen survived th' wreck."

"So how many made it off?"

"About th' same number as is in this room, actually."

"But he was one of the two who didn't."

"Correct." My mate glanced toward a window.

"So between the time of the crash and the time you leave that planet, my son dies. And I can safely assume it's at your hands. Is that right?" A second later, Boss jumped up again. "I'm wasting my fucking time here!"

"You grant any last wishes?" A smirk was directed at my blonde friend. "I was referrin' t' you."

"Not that th' chains aren't a hot look, but no," Dahl drawled. I rolled my eyes. "I'm not gonna straddle you in front of all these guys."

"What if I killed all of 'em first?"

"Easy, boy." The sniper smirked. "There's a lot more tranq where that came from."

"Tell me what you see outside that window, Dahl." She glanced at the old man, then did as Rick asked with a sigh. Next to where she'd been sitting, Dog shoved his head under Jack's arm and whined.

"Cyclops unit, two ships, couple dead guys in plastic," the blonde reported.

"An' ya don't see anything else?"

"Nothin' else."

"Lemme know when ya do." She turned her back on the portal, and my lover smirked again. "Love those toenails, by th' way."

"Yeah?" She grinned; I could tell that she'd realized Rick was playing games. "Predator Pink."

"Matches your nipples." Dahl blinked, startled, as I snorted.

"Why are we even listening to this big fuckstick?" Santana asked testily. "Can we just detach his head, please?"

"Here's what's gonna happen," Boss said quietly, leaning over his prisoner. "The next sixty seconds, you're gonna watch your own head drop into that box. Nothing, _nothing_ is gonna keep you from that special place in hell." An internal worry that he might be serious rose, and I firmly squashed it. "Maybe in the last minute of your life, you wanna be somethin more than a goddamn savage! Gimme some fucking answers! _Please_!" The old man paused to collect himself, and most of us looked away to give him a bit of privacy. "Is there anything you'd like to add on the subject I just raised?"

Instead of words, the question was answered by drops of water pelting the building. I cringed momentarily; my sister's eyes went wide as she spotted the movement. Dog pressed himself against her more firmly than before, causing Jack to actually stagger into Squeaker, who wrapped his arms around her to stabilize them both.

"Time's up," Rick rumbled.

"Time _is_ up." Boss winked at me again, then nodded to Santana. "He's all yours."

"Hold him down," the asshole snarled at his cousin as he kicked his box closer. Diaz planted a hand between my mate's shoulders, forcing him to bend with a grunt. With a smirk, Box-Boy raised his machete. "Finale de parti, amigo."

Thankfully, that was when Rick's mudbugs set off the Cyclops system's alarm. Everyone stiffened again.

"More dingo-dongos, maybe?" Vargas suggested hopefully. The boy, though, noted the way that the canid was trembling and shook his head.

"Lucky," Santana snarled at the convict before heading for the door. Jack and her boy stayed put while Lockspur sidled toward the hotseat and the rest went to investigate.

"I know what's coming," the quiet merc muttered. "They're called the 'vanyu'… the serpents." My lover and I exchanged puzzled frowns as he, too, followed the rest outside.

"Spotlight!" At the yelled command, Moss dashed back inside and scaled a ladder. Rain poured through a roof hatch as he worked the high-powered lamp from the lookout post. Hisses and shrieks began to fill the air. The dark-skinned man slid back down, eyes wide, as a fine tremor started to show in my sister's hands.

"Like I said, it ain't me ya gotta worry about."

"What is it?" Squeaker asked as people piled back inside and slid a heavy bar across the main door. "What's out there?"

"I don't know," Moss replied with a shake of his head.

"Fucked up or something out there," the big jamoke added unhelpfully.

"It ain't right. An' it's comin' our way." I hadn't seen the creatures except at extreme distance, but they had clearly unsettled my teammates.

An automatic rifle chattered unexpectedly; Lockspur had stepped up to a window, aiming through the louvers and heavy-gauge wire mesh before firing wildly into the darkness. He unloaded an entire high-capacity magazine and pivoted, putting his back against a section of wall as he reloaded.

"Whatever they are, they ain't so hard t' kill," he snarled. Half a second later, three bony spikes erupted from his chest, the muscles behind them thrusting him back toward the window. On the other side of the protective measure, a creature—presumably the owner of the tail which had impaled Lockspur—snarled as his body was bashed against the wire mesh. Jack shrieked, her voice full of fear, and I swore under my breath. Murphy's Law, between the darkness, rampaging strange carnivores, and rain, she'd been thrown into a flashback to M-344/G; she hadn't had one for years.

Our three teammates and Diaz stepped up, though. As soon as they had a clear shot, they poured fire into the beast. It took a fair amount of ammunition before it collapsed with a wheezing sigh, but Moss didn't quit. His rifle ran dry, so he switched to his pistol, emptying it and pausing to reload. The skylight above him shattered.

"No!" My adoptive sister hurled herself at the dark-skinned man, barreling into him as another spiked tail plunged through the now-empty frame, missing its target by a couple of centimeters. Other mudbugs beat at the walls.

"What the fuck?" Dahl swore as she helped Jack and Moss get up. Boss moved from opening to opening, closing and locking louvers and shutters with frantic speed, while the brunette all but curled in on herself, the shaking more pronounced.

"Fuck," he growled, running out of barriers to secure. As I crouched by Rick's side, everyone else formed an outward-facing circle in an effort to prevent attacks from behind. Santana's cousin raised his rifle cautiously.

"No more holes, please." The Vagos leader accompanied his request with a hand on his second's arm. At least one mudbug leapt onto the roof; sections of the metal creaked and sagged under the extra weight. My mate chuckled evilly, swinging his arms to make the chains clank.

"Now here's what's gonna happen," he declared once he had everyone's attention. "In sixty seconds, you're gonna take these chains off me. We're gonna make a play for those nodes an' get off this rock. But somewhere along th' line, when it gets _really_ bad, Johns is gonna fold, just like Little Johns did." Boss' jaw clenched in frustration. "Then, when it's all over an' you men are all ready for Dead Animal Pickup, I'm gonna go balls deep into Dahl. But only because she asked me to. Sweet-like." Rick grinned at the sharpshooter as she rolled her eyes.

"What does he mean, 'when things go bad'?" Vargas asked bitterly. "What, _this_ doesn't qualify as bad?"

"What th' fuck is happening?" Dahl demanded. "How fucked are we?"

"He saw it." Santana's middle boy had gone from bitter to downright accusatory. "He saw it with those eyes of his and he didn't tell us what." Another creature banged on the roof, making him cringe. Boss returned to his seat on the cryo box.

"One ship for you an' yours, one for me an' mine," Rick told him solemnly.

"I need to know that these nodes are retrievable."

"An' _I_ need t' know we have a deal." The old man paused a moment in thought before nodding.

"We got a deal." He leaned down, unlocking my mate's right ankle.

"The chains stay on." The end of the machete was laid on Boss' shoulder, its honed edge against his neck. A brief scuffle ensued as the blonde attempted to assist her friend, but Diaz quickly corralled her. I suspected that, if not for the flashback she was still trying to escape, Jack would have helped.

"Why don't we sit this one out?" he sneered. Santana returned his blade to its previous position and applied pressure.

"Okay, okay." The former soldier rose smoothly but slowly, his hands in the air and the key for Rick's restraints hanging from one thumb.

"Up, up, up…" Box-Boy took possession of the key and forced his rival to move away a couple of meters. "Good doggie." Then he turned. I ducked around my lover so that I was out of his way, but still had a good view; he could get quite creative with bastards like this one. Santana swung, yelling, as Rick swiftly wrapped the chains around his wrists. Holding his weight up with his arms, one crude boot rose to strike the merc's hand, launching the machete up to lodge in the ceiling while a stomping motion drove the asshole against the wall. As Santana struggled to his feet, his blade wobbled and fell to land on my mate's fast-moving foot. He took a moment to properly balance its weight, then tossed the blade up and kicked it. As the weapon sailed across the room, he gently slid the box toward his foe.

The machete hit right along the line of Santana's mouth with enough force to continue all the way through the man's skull. The severed cranium slid off, thumping into the box while the lower mandible and occiput, still attached to the rest of the body, slumped to the floor. Vargas shouted in alarm; Jack and Boss whistled, impressed. Figured that it would take a shock like that to free her from the bad memories.

"Holy shit," Squeaker gasped, making me raise an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Diaz bit out sarcastically. "Let's cut him loose."

"That was five seconds."

"I like t' be a man of my word," Rick told Dahl with a smirk. "How about you, Johns?"

"Alright, yes, you're a deadly son-of-a-bitch when provoked. You can stop trying to get a rise out of me."

"Come on, Boss," I couldn't help but reply. "Where's th' fun in that?"

"Fuckin' nutcases, both of 'em," she muttered to herself. That panic attack had ambushed her and scared her sick. _~Gotta do something about th' memories so that doesn't happen again.~_

"Who?" Right, she had an audience of two now, though at least one couldn't speak.

"Rick an' my sister." She looked sideways at Luna. "Normally not _this_ bad, mind. Been more than two years since they last saw each other, an' separation ain't good for _any_ part of their health." Then Jack grimaced. "Nothin' really 'normal' about th' three of us, though."

"Offshoot species?" the younger man ventured. The brunette nodded, surprised that he'd caught on so quickly. "Then what most people consider normal wouldn't fit for you. Nothing wrong with that."

 _~Don't think you'd be sayin' that yet if ya knew that a part of me wants t' jump your bones right now,~_ she thought wryly. Not that she was at all comfortable with the urge, herself.

Dog growled as Dahl handed heavy stun rifles to Jack and Luna, keeping the third for herself. The younger woman checked her katana, making sure it was just loose enough in its scabbard that it wouldn't bind up if she needed it. Eileen was doing the same with her daggers.

Boss looked around, visually checking that everyone was ready to move out, then kicked the main doors open. The group advanced at a slow walk, blasting anything that moved as they headed for the newer, sleeker merc ship. The Prime Alphas brought up the rear casually. Then, as the ramp lowered, the brunette resisted the urge to curse, her shakes finally subsiding.

"…For He shall give His angels charge over me, keep me in all His grace as long as I live…"

 _~Figures that th' cutie my animal decides she wants is a religious type,~_ she grumbled internally.

"Shut the noise, Luna," Vargas growled.

"You know," the kid continued, oblivious to his teammate, "I think the angels are here, protecting me. And if they're here, watching over me, maybe they'll deliver us all from this crazy, evil place."

"Not the angels," Jack retorted, giving in to a tiny bit of temper and gently smacking the back of his head. "Th' Furyans."

"That shit is creeping everybody out, so shut the fuck up!"

" _You_ shut the fuck up, Vargas," barked the salt-and-pepper former soldier. "Leave the kid alone." The grungy merc seemed to realize that mouthing off to Boss when he was in such an unpleasant mood was not a good idea, because he only scowled before turning toward the ramp.

A small form leapt out of the mud with a high-pitched shriek and latched onto Vargas' ankle. Jack jumped, stumbling into Dog.

"Where the hell did that…" Diaz pushed forward, aiming his scope-less rifle at the small creature. "Jesus Christ! No, no, no!" Despite the other merc's pleas, half a dozen shots rattled from the weapon, shredding the beast's little body. But once the firearm was lowered, Vargas shoved his larger teammate away from him. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you crazy bastard? You could have killed me!"

"I got it, didn't I?" The big asshole got a mulish, defensive look on his face as the other man backed away, then started to shake and fell over. "Vargas, get up."

Rather than responding, the merc stiffened further and trembled as though he was having a seizure.

"Vargas, get up," Diaz repeated. "Come on, let's go." Nothing but stuttering, ragged breathing from his teammate.

 _~Fuck… That's kinda like Fry, just before Chillingsworth grabbed th' skiff.~_ The guy was a goner.

"Vargas, come on, man. Walk it off." Douchebag toed the man. "Let's go. It's just a little one."

"Small ones're th' worst," Rick offered nonchalantly. "They save th' most venom." Even as he spoke, Vargas lost the fight with a final gasp. "An' kid, leave God outta this. He wants no part of what happens next."

"Oh, shut th' fuck up, Rick." Jack found herself snarling at the head of her pack. "Leave Luna alone!" But instead of getting Alpha-pissy and –growly, the convict laughed at her, his grin liable to split his face in two. Even Eileen was chuckling as the brunette felt her cheeks warm.

The older Furyans still had business on their minds, though; Rick's goggled gaze locked onto the biggest of the three uncovered hover-bikes.

 _~He gets a ride on one of those, we'll have t' find th' money somewhere t' get him a Hog of his own t' keep.~_

Th' mercs are busy as I give th' hefty machine a quick once-over. It's a damned nice piece of gear, way more than th' average bounty hunter could save up for in an entire career, an' yet another sign that Big Daddy is as different from Billy as day is from night. Man thinks long an' hard 'bout keepin' his people alive t' collect their pay.

"We'll take mine out for a long run once this is all over," my woman whispers in my ear. This Hog's got a longer seat than the others, so I swing a leg over th' saddle, feelin' Eileen mount behind me an' tuck close t' my body.

"I forgot to mention." Boss steps up an' grabs a weapon that was racked on th' bike's side. "There's no weapons for you." I shoot him a sour look. Leavin' our defenses at just my mate's long daggers? "You think you can ride one of these things?" For shits an' giggles, I rev th' engine an' jack th' handlebars up into cruise mode.

"I'll ride it like I stole it." Gunnin' it, I rocket outta th' ship, climbin', then divin' right as my woman's arms tighten around my waist. For a few minutes, I keep th' pace slow, but once Big Daddy an' th' big jamoke catch up, it's pedal t' th' metal.

Lots of bells an' whistles on this beast. One switch lets me stand without th' engine safety cuttin' out. I hit it an' take a good look around, figure out just where we are. Th' mountain's revealed by a lightnin' flash, a bit right of our current heading, an' we're about t' hit a little dogleg pass that should be collectin' water by now.

I know all too well how much mudbugs love water.

Droppin' back into th' saddle, I wait 'til Eileen's got a good grip on me, then whip around th' valley bend. Sure enough, th' ugly fucks are gatherin' in th' slop, an' I use our combined weight t' roll th' Hog so its exhaust roasts 'em but good. More felt than heard, my woman chuckles against my back.

I lead our 'chaperones' up th' mountain's flank along a pretty narrow path—two people could walk next t' each other on it, but there's no way t' get two of these rigs on it side-by-side. My bet? Diaz will try t' get Boss outta his way when he sees th' excuse. Which is why we're usin' this route. Th' path is a dead end, low enough that jumpin' th' Hogs off it'll put some strain on th' engines but not do any true damage.

Sure enough, I catch a flash of light from behind an' double back after leavin' th' mountainside. Boss has wiped out an' had th' breath knocked outta him. Eileen slips off t' deal with a mudbug; she doesn't even seem t' think about armin' me, but she's been a little touchy 'bout her daggers. Boss gets up, takes a few shots with his pistol, then finds his gauge by almost trippin' over it. Once he's got it steady, I whistle, an' he spins.

"You asshole motherfucker!" Big Daddy yells. "Just sittin' there watchin'!" Okay, now that's uncalled for.

"Woulda covered ya, but you said, 'no weapons,'" I snarl back.

"An' I _was_ coverin'," my mate adds, wipin' pale green ichor from her blade with an apparently disposable cloth. "Goddammit, Boss, cut th' paranoid crap, we're on th' same side."

As th' man rubs a hand over his face, I grin an' pat th' saddle of th' borrowed Hog. Hell, now I've got an excuse t' rib him some.

"How bad ya want those nodes, Johns?" His 'oh, hell' look is worth th' light punch I get from th' other side. So I swing my leg back over an' wait. Th' old man gingerly gets on th' back, gettin' so close t' fallin' off that he puts his hands behind him t' hold a little piece of rail. When I turn t' Eileen, she gives me this dirty look that makes me scoot back until there's room for her t' slide in front of me.

Like she doesn't even wanna touch Boss. Kinda pleases my animal side, actually.

We only just get started again when th' big jamoke roars up, lookin' a little more disgruntled than before when he realizes I've got an extra passenger. Asshole has realized he's got exactly zero support now; I could already tell when we left that Squeaker's startin' t' genuinely like Jackie-girl. Boy wears his heart on his damn sleeve, which ain't a good thing for a merc, but might help him as a normal among animals—two-legged an' four-foots.

Finally, we sweep up th' small hill an' stop under th' rock shelves. My woman an' I go straight for th' trench spades we left here, while Diaz makes like he's gonna guard th' Hogs an' Big Daddy hovers. So I start bringin' up th' sand, an' Eileen moves it away, keepin' an eye on th' bad guy.

I get close t' uncoverin' th' nodes before Boss breaks th' silence, apparently keepin' up his act. Or wantin' t' hear things from th' horse's mouth.

"I don't suppose you took the time to do this for him, huh?"

"This may come as a shock t' ya, Johns, but I didn't ghost your son. He seemed set on killin' himself." I'll play along a bit more.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He actually sounds vaguely insulted.

"Morphine." I huff, kinda aggravated by th' memories of Billy chasin' me. "Your son liked his morphine. Liked it twice a day." Now I look up at Big Daddy's shocked face. "Didn't know your son was a junkie?" I shrug. "Johns was like most mercs. They look all stand-up an' do-right 'til ya cut 'em open an' find somethin' missin'. In his case, a spine."

"I don't have to listen to this shit!" th' old man explodes. "That's not the man I knew."

"Then ya didn't know your son." I go back t' diggin', just t' have something else t' do. "He wanted t' kill a kid t' save his own skin. I had a problem with that, an' so did Eileen. 'Cause of us, that kid's in your ship right now."

"You expect me to believe my son was gonna kill that girl to save his own life?"

"Morphine makes th' brain soft," my mate chips in. "Weakens th' morals. Junkie'll do anything t' get his next fix." She's got her shades up, so I see her eyes tighten.

"I don't fuckin' buy it," th' old man snaps back. "I just can't believe that my son's the bad guy in this fuckin' demented fairy tale of yours." Right as he's finishin' his rant, I get down t' where th' argon-generated blue-white light of th' nodes is visible.

"I have no reason t' lie now, Johns," I reply, hoistin' his pack out first. "Either of us." Diaz comes closer as I bend back down for Santana's unit. I notice his sudden movement from th' corner of my eye an' reach for my buried switchblade. But he's too close, an' I hafta jump outta th' hole before he can trap me in it.

As I come out, I manage t' kick th' big jamoke's hip an' grab his wrist, knockin' away Big Daddy's shotgun. Follow-through lets me get my other leg over the arm I hold an' my free hand behind his head; I use th' leverage t' throw him off t' one side, away from where Eileen's doin' a quick check on Boss. Once she sees Diaz on th' ground, though, she's up with her daggers out, launchin' a scary-silent attack he just barely fends off.

Given that she once almost decapitated a professional bodyguard with those blades, I'm kinda surprised he survives it. In fact, he ends up puttin' an elbow into th' side of her head, which pisses off my inner animal. So I throw myself at him again, gettin' rid of his pistol for a moment.

Which, of course, turns out t' be a mistake. Th' big jamoke takes advantage of my rage an' manages t' nail me more than once, drivin' me t' hands an' knees. My head rings; my mate must be stunned as bad or worse, 'cause she's not back in th' fight yet.

"Thanks for startin' the killin' spree for me, Riddick." Diaz grabs my wrists from behind, an' I lock my elbows straight as he starts t' lift. "But I'll take it from here."

"No shot!" I can hear th' old man yell.

It takes enough startin' effort t' force air outta me, but I manage t' get my wrists movin' away from each other. Soon, my weight acts as leverage, an' th' asshole's th' one groanin'. With my arms horizontal, I pivot like they're an axle, kickin' off Diaz's chest an' divin' into th' hole. _This_ time, th' big blade comes back up with me, an' before he can get his sidearm turned on me again, I'm airborne.

Th' carefully-knapped flint lands between Diaz's left shoulder an' his neck, cleavin' through a good ten or fifteen centimeters of his ribcage as Eileen drives a dagger in his right side an' pulls it right back out. Bein' rough stone, my weapon sticks, so I use my foot t' shove the asshole off it. Dunno if he's still a bit alive; his trigger finger flexes as he topples, an' bullets hit th' turbine of th' Hog he was ridin'.

"Jamoke," I snarl. Fuckin' idiot.

"Was that blade meant for me?" Boss asks, soundin' cautious.

"Nah." My lover wobbles slightly, so I put an arm around her. "Figured there'd be treachery at this point from Vagos, not you." He snorts, then slings a strap from his node over one shoulder.

"We've got a problem, though. Two nodes, one Hog. And I sure as _shit_ am not ridin' bitch again."

" _Nobody's_ ridin' bitch," my woman corrects. "Motherfucker pulled th' turbine pin an' tossed it." Alarmed, th' old man checks th' machine quickly.

"Son of a fuckin' _bitch_!" He looks up, oddly… woeful? "Lemme guess, ground game?"

"Head of th' class," Eileen replies with a chuckle. "Wish we'd grabbed those repeaters t' drop on th' way here. No way we'd get Jack out here with our bikes, though."

"Oh god, is _that_ why she can't keep her eyes off the kid?" She giggles a bit at th' reaction. "So more than half—plus that dog-thing—going with you. At least Santana's boat is bigger."

"Plus, with power back , you guys can track th' beacons on th' Hogs for pickup an' repair 'em later." Sounds like my mate's negotiatin'; I check th' Pack bonds in my mind.

"We'll let you have as much of th' cryo system as ya want," I offer. That shit's expensive; seven hibernation units should cover whatever work th' hover-bikes need, an' th' drugs might cover fuel an' ammo costs. Our backup's close enough that we won't need it at all.

"I wasn't gonna try to keep you," th' old man protests. "But I'll take you up on the cryo if you're sure you can spare it." He works his node's second strap onto his other shoulder, then holds th' second power unit out toward us. "Let's get going."

Rick was displaying his unconventional brand of chivalry again: the node was on _his_ shoulders, not mine. Of course, he considers me the more nimble of us, so he probably wanted me to be better able to maneuver quickly.

We formed a rough triangle with Boss as we fought our way through the mud and carnivores. The going proved slow; some of the slop was more than ankle deep. Mudbugs apparently had less in the way of smarts than grues; where the latter would have taken a step back, the former kept attacking despite the trail of body parts we were leaving. Just injuring them didn't work, either, unless it took off a leg. Anything less severe, and they kept coming.

"Reload!" We stopped, my lover and I covering the former soldier as he slid shells into his shotgun and swapped pistol magazines. One creature leapt toward me and met a swift slash.

"Watch your backs," I warned the men. Another beast came up the far side of a boulder and met Rick's switchblade in midair. Boss worked the action on his gauge, chambering a round.

"Go!" But a wave of mudbugs hit, keeping us too busy with self-defense to make any headway. One of the last ones in the group seemed to focus on my mate.

One final crack of gunfire, and then silence came, broken only by the falling rain. I turned to see the blade of my man's weapon driven into the big creature's neck, snapped in two near the pivot point. It collapsed as Rick staggered, and I hurried to his aid. A tail spike had lodged in his torso, low on his left side, and a rush of blood accompanied his initial attempt to remove the object. My lover stopped the alarming flow temporarily by replacing the spike, but sank to his knees as they gave out.

"Boss!" He glanced over at my shout. "We need some space!" Grim-faced, he pulled a canister off his belt, armed it, and hurled the grenade into the faintly-visible mass of advancing mudbugs. While the timer silently counted down, Boss crouched, guarding his eyes and, more importantly, my mate's. I pressed my face against the firm bicep bared by Rick's handmade leather jerkin to preserve my own vision.

 _~Phosphor frag,~_ I guessed; he'd mentioned using them earlier. That could be useful for more than the blast, since some of the volatiles included white phosphorus—a chemical that burned until it ran out of fuel, even underwater. We'd be able to cauterize that enormous wound.

And the grenade's flash was searing despite shielding myself; definitely phosphor. Once it faded to a tolerable level, I started pulling the carry straps off my lover's shoulder gently. He turned his head toward me, brow wrinkling in confusion.

"Take it!" I told Boss, shoving the node at him. "Get those back t' th' ships an' get back out here. We'll try for that peak." It was the closest significant terrain feature. "Go, dammit!" For once, the old soldier took an order from me and dashed away.

"I've got inbound." The boy's voice startled Dahl from her worried mood. She hit the button to open the hatch, then turned toward the pair at the console, Moss rising from his seat as well.

"Just one?" She winced at the hitch in the brunette's voice; what 'Prime Alpha' meant, she didn't really know, but it sounded important.

"Don't jump to a bad conclusion, Jack." Whether or not that would help the girl stay calm… The blonde picked up a rifle just in case.

When the actinic light of the packs emerged from the gloom, they were being carried by her dear friend. He stumbled up the ramp, and Dahl reached out to help him.

"Take this!" He shoved the older-looking node at Moss.

"Is it just you?" The sniper winced again, feeling her young friend's incipient panic. _How_ she sensed it, she didn't know, but if Jack lost it, there would be significant bloodshed.

"Just slam this thing in!" Boss turned around so Dahl could get at the straps for the unit on his back. "Get us in the air and prep the winch."

"Boss…" Before Jack could try to demand an answer again, Luna reached over and clasped her hand shyly. The emotional pressure eased.

"Just do it."

 _~Shit. Did he take lessons in snarling or something?~_


	10. Chapter 10

**Night Vision**

A _Riddick: Rule the Dark_ Alternate Universe

 **Chapter Ten**

"I have a heading." Marcus poked his head into the modest-sized cabin. His pale friend looked up from the tablet he held, stylus in hand, and nodded.

"I can feel the urgency," Niklas agreed. "Did you want my assistance?"

"No, but the company would be quite welcome." The big Beta smiled, then indicated the implements that the other Furyan had been using. "More of our lore?"

Transferring his incredible store of knowledge about their race from memory to data archives had become a passion bordering on obsession for the blond. Marcus understood that, though; they didn't know how many others had managed to hide from or escape the Necromongers, let alone whether any of them were Omegas. Having accessible records was now crucial in case they found orphans who, like the Alphas, knew nothing of their heritage.

"Yes," came the chuckled reply. "Listing the Packs today. There are times when I am surprised to remember just how numerous we were."

 _~So very true,~_ Marcus thought as they walked forward to the bridge. He recalled the population of Furya being somewhere around a billion, and that had been deemed the limit of what the planet could sustain without damage to its biosphere.

Now they only knew of a handful for sure. There were some potential Furyans that James was helping to track and confirm or disprove through hard data, but he refused to count them until their origins were known.

James being himself, he had invested in his pseudo-sister's business from the start, banking the money until he had saved enough for a second ship from the same builder. _Wayfarer's Eyrie_ , unlike the original _Wanderer's Den_ , was no cargo vessel; she had been designed as a mobile base for seeking out the scattered Furyan survivors once it was less dangerous to do so. Hullplate to hullplate living quarters, some cabins sized for singles, others for couples. Only Marcus' room had been given more than sparse decoration.

He wasn't bothered by the implication that he had a mission, he was comforted.

"Deep thoughts?" Startled, he blinked, slowly realizing that Niklas had pulled him from a phenomenon that he blamed on Chillingsworth's cryo brew. The Beta sometimes found himself sucked into his own musings, to the point where he couldn't get back out on his own. So he nodded his thanks and finished the walk to the _Eyrie_ 's cockpit.

As Marcus adjusted the ship's course, the blond chattered on about small bits of Furyan lore, some of which the larger male had never heard. It was a facet of Omegas that he found curious; the slight man sometimes seemed to know how to calm him and when he needed it. Well, Niklas was likely to use the ability frequently.

With the glow of the power nodes gone, my vision sharpened, the secondary irises dilating. I couldn't let Rick fall over, so I pressed my torso against his right side.

"You're sure he'll come back?" he asked me, the rumble of his voice not as strong as usual.

"He's as much a man of his word as you, love." I stretched up and kissed the big man's cheek. "We need t' get you over near th' grenade."

"Thinkin'…" He gasped slightly in pain as he tried to get from his knees to his feet. "Thinkin' we can cauterize this shit?"

"Yup." I braced myself against his weight to act as a crutch. "Be hell gettin' it fixed up properly later, but it'd be that way if we left it as is. Need t' stop th' bleedin' now." Rick hummed his agreement as he straightened.

With his broken weapon bracing his other side, we made our way toward the blast zone and managed fifty meters before my mate got too wobbly to continue. I helped him sit, rather than fall, and then began unwrapping the upper part of one of his boots. Cutting off a piece of the rough leather provided a protective layer between my hand and a fist-sized, white-hot ember.

After collecting a thin coating of mud to prevent the white phosphorus from directly contacting his flesh, I crouched next to the former convict. He nodded, grasping the end of the spike and leaning back slightly to give me better access. Then he removed the object in a flash of movement, and I pressed the coal against the gaping wound. Rick allowed himself an agonized bellow as the stench of burning flesh rose briefly.

I discarded the ember after a couple of seconds, slathering on a bit more of the runny mud to cool the injury. My lover gasped for a moment, pulling in oxygen, then tried to brace his damaged blade and get up again. He didn't lean on me quite as heavily as he had before.

Only as we got into the large boulders near the mountain's base did the mudbugs dare attack again. I met the first screeching beast's charge with my own scream of rage.

 _~I am_ _ **sick**_ _and_ _ **tired**_ _of bein' in these fucked-up situations,~_ I ranted internally. _~Even five years apart is too damned often.~_ Behind me, Rick carefully backed up along the rocks, his switchblade handle occasionally whipping out to brain a creature.

Gaining altitude served to concentrate our foes, however, and we soon shifted to guard each other's backs.

 _~Come on, Boss,~_ I thought to myself. _~Where the fuck are you?~_ We wouldn't last much longer, hemmed in like this. My mate was now taking the creatures on with his bare hands, the remains of his weapon embedded in a corpse several meters away.

We had absolutely nowhere to go.

Then engines became just barely audible over the thunder and screeching. The sound warned us with only enough time to close our eyes, the lids squeezed tight. Rocks shook from explosive shells and echoed with the keening of dying mudbugs. Twice, rounds came so close to me that I felt the heat through my jacket before they struck beasts that were almost on top of me. Rick had been quite literally holding one off until a shot blew its body away, leaving only the head in his hands.

A bright spotlight flicked on to illuminate us, and I sighed in relief. The mostly-forgotten earpiece crackled to life.

"Extraction, thirty seconds or less," Boss declared briskly. "Let's go, people!" Then Dahl seemed to float down, harnessed to the winch cable with a couple of meters dangling below her. As she touched down, the blonde held out a second set of safety webbing, helping me secure my lover in it.

"Set of holds under me," she shouted. That explained the extra cable. The sniper looked skyward and gave a thumbs-up signal to whoever was operating the hoist. As they were reeled up, I grabbed a handle attached to the heavy line, then slid one foot into the loop at the very end.

"Let me ask ya somethin'," Dahl commented on the way up. "Sweet-like." I had to chuckle at her reference to Rick's earlier teasing.

"So what's our story gonna be?" Moss leaned back in his jump seat, visibly pondering the possibilities.

"Damn near impossible t' convince people that Rick's dead," her sister groused. She had draped herself over the saddle of her Hog. "We've tried it."

"What if Santana's ship could be brought back here once we're picked up?" Luna had frowned slightly in thought. "If we could make it look like it never left, maybe do something to the mechanics…" A long pause followed as all seven of them—Dog being passed out at Jack's feet—mulled over the idea.

"Between strippin' all th' cryo shit out of it an' fraggin' an engine, we _might_ be able t' make it _look_ convincin' enough." The brunette smiled slightly at the young man, then focused on the trio across from her. "Be up t' you t' sell it, though. Tell a good enough story."

"I think we can handle that part," Boss agreed, shadows in his eyes even as one side of his mouth flicked upwards. "The equipment damage will help, as will our reduction in strength."

"Shit, I'll be glad t' recover th' Hogs at all," Dahl blurted. She managed the finances of Boss' crew. "I'd hate havin' t' buy _new_ ones."

"Sounds like a plan," Rick rumbled. "Our pickup's not too far away." He leaned back against Eileen's hover-bike and crossed his arms over his chest, then became very still, other than the steady rhythm of his breathing. Jack couldn't tell for sure, since he was wearing his goggles, but she suspected that he was taking a catnap.

"I wonder how long the rain will last."

"Radar works, now that we've got full power," she informed Luna. "Satellite uplink, too. We could go check." He smiled at the suggestion, his fair complexion going slightly pink as he motioned for her to lead the way. Her inner animal—unlike her adoptive siblings, the brunette felt that hers was more of a bird-like creature—roused with an intense skin-hunger as they moved into the somewhat secluded nook for the secondary systems controls, giving her a sense that it was mantling as she tried to keep it from taking control.

So instead of grabbing the blond the way the animal wanted to, Jack planted her ass in the seat and dove into the auxiliary programs Boss had acquired for his vessel. The weather system came up quickly.

"Damn, that's a big-ass storm," she muttered. Data from the satellite installed to boost any signal from the station showed angry, moisture-laden clouds covering at least a third of the planet and moving slowly.

"No breaks until… tomorrow afternoon, it looks like." Luna put an arm on the chair's back so that he could read the screen over her shoulder. "That's quite the wait."

The young woman nodded and tried not to squirm.

 _~How th'_ _ **fuck**_ _did Rick an' Eileen keep from goin' at it on T-2?~_ She remembered them behaving themselves in front of everyone, even when Chillingsworth had been trying to push every button she could find. _~This is nuts!~_

The unexpected sensation of someone gently tugging her ponytail almost made Jack jump out of her skin. _Nobody_ had played with her hair in years, not since it had gotten long enough to be pulled back again. A glance up at the youth behind her showed that he was staring off into the distance, apparently thinking hard about something. She couldn't help the little shiver that ran through her body as he absently wound a dark ringlet around his finger.

The spell snapped just as suddenly as it had begun, Luna snatching his hand away as if burned. Stammering an apology of some sort, he fled back to the main bay, leaving the brunette behind. She thumped her head against the console, frustrated.

 _~This_ _ **sucks**_ _.~_

When the kid reappeared wearing a panicked expression, it was all I could do not to laugh aloud. I didn't quite know what had happened in the secondary systems alcove, but it must have been something pretty innocent—Jack certainly hadn't kissed him.

"So how's it lookin' outside?" I asked, breaking the tense silence. Luna ducked his head before he replied.

"It's a-a very big storm. W-won't clear at all until l-late tomorrow." His left hand flexed as he spoke, fingers and thumb rubbing against each other. Moss' shoulders shook very slightly as he suppressed a laugh—something I'd come to recognize as I learned to understand his warped sense of humor—and Boss shifted around in his crash couch, getting comfortable.

"That being the case, I'm gonna get some shut-eye." He glanced at Dahl, who nodded and sat up straighter, taking charge without saying a word. With a sigh, I opened one of my hover-bike's saddlebags to dig out a small handheld game; I wasn't going to sleep unless my mate was awake, not while we were effectively in someone else's territory.

Of course, teasing my sister in front of God and everybody wasn't going to happen.

Once the weather cleared, pulling the hibernation system from Santana's ship didn't take long, nor did collecting the damaged Hogs. Moss fretted horribly over their condition; he'd been the person most involved in maintenance and the most attached to his mechanical mount after me and Jack.

Then it came time to actually leave the planet, and I fretted right up until the moment when Luna boarded the ship he was used to and claimed the seat closest to the cockpit without a moment's hesitation. He caught my eyes and flushed when he realized I'd been watching. Tactfully, I managed not to chuckle.

Rick and I didn't bother sitting down right away, though, squeezing into the small pilot's area. Dog whined briefly, then curled up halfway under a couple of seats. The vessel rose beyond the cloud layer only to have the newer craft swing around and face us, as I'd expected.

"Some good men died here, Riddick," the former soldier said after a comm channel opened. "Not sure how I'm supposed to overlook that if there's a next time." My mate reached over to key our comm system.

"Yeah. Things might've been different if they hadn't been tryin' t' put my head in a box."

"True. So where to now?" I could just barely make out the figures in the other ship's bridge; Dahl and Moss had moved up behind their leader. "You know what? Fuck that. _Don't_ tell me." Static nearly covered his wry chuckle. "I don't wanna know."

"Well, then." I grinned myself as I joined the conversation. "I'll give ya this much, Boss: sooner or later, we've all gotta head home."

"Tell Dahl t' keep it warm for me," Rick added with a chuckle of his own that deepened when she responded by flipping him off. "And Johns… you keep that strong spine." The newer transport banked away, allowing us to climb beyond the atmosphere as they went off in another direction.

"I can feel Uncle Marcus an' Niklas gettin' closer," my sister remarked. "Maybe a day out. I could park this tub in an orbit 'round that gas giant while we wait for 'em."

"Good idea." I squeezed the brunette's shoulder, then moved back to the main cabin and dropped into a crash couch. With an even more piteous whimper, Dog crept my way, his ears laid back in fear. He only relaxed once he'd put his head on my knee and I began stroking him soothingly. "Poor pup. You're not sure about this space stuff, huh?"

My lover soon joined me, his mere proximity easing the canid's stress further. I could feel Luna watching us intently, but he didn't say anything before Jack had finished with the simple piloting needed to get us headed in the right direction. Instead of sitting down, she went to check on her Hog, testing its temporary tie-downs.

"Enough stallin', Jackie," Rick rumbled. She heaved a huge sigh, then turned to face her young man.

"Thank you for choosin' t' come with us." The brunette blushed as she spoke.

"Well, Dahl was pretty firm about me not being cut out for bounty hunting," he replied quietly. "I'd rather be with folks who want me along. Rubio had started teaching me to fix electronics." A hopeful note entered his voice.

"It'll be good to have someone who does more than tinker," I assured him with a warm smile.

"An' if ya wanna get more formal education, that can be arranged." Luna turned astonished eyes on my mate. "Jack did most of her studies by correspondence; no reason you can't do th' same."

"Thank you," the youth sighed.

"Hey, Pack takes care of its own." The pragmatic reply seemed to surprise him.

"You'd consider me a part of your pack?" His posture relaxed subtly. "I… Thank you just isn't strong enough." He glanced over at my sister, who ducked her head and blushed. The sight caused a flush to creep across Luna's face as well.

"You did set our beacon, right?" Jack nodded at Rick's query, and the convict settle further into his seat. "Waitin' on Niklas an' Marcus, then." With that, he laced his fingers with mine, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

As the ship dropped out of hyper, the pack bonds grew stronger, and a new, thread-thin connection sprang into being. Niklas grinned as their trajectory was adjusted, aiming for the gas giant in the system. Then his pack-mate looked over at him, beaming as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"My niece found her mate," Marcus whispered in awe. The Omega squeezed his shoulder gently, then turned his attention to the _Eyrie_ 's communications suite. It was registering a beacon, a small jump-ship registered to someone named Santana Vagos. He snorted, knowing that person was no longer among the living.

" _Wayfarer's Eyrie_ to jump-ship," Niklas said into the mike. "Your ride is here." A minute later, the speaker crackled.

"Good t' hear your voice," a mezzo-soprano replied. "Feel up to helpin' stage a scene?"

"Be happy to, milady." He got a chuckle in response to the honorific. "Lead the way." From the seat to his left, the Beta flashed him a mischievous grin.

 _~Should be interesting to hear their plan.~_

They landed the ship he'd called 'home' for so long precisely where Santana had originally put it. The new ship—he liked its poetic name—was supposed to land a few kilometers away, where no one would be looking for evidence of a third vessel. Within twenty minutes, two men jogged up who could have been a study in opposites, a slender blond and a heavily-muscled brunet. The latter promptly climbed up the side of the jumper to examine the rear engines from above.

The next few hours were a mixture of intense work and moments when Luna couldn't help but stare. The larger newcomer moved very bulky, heavy objects around with muscle power only; a couple of them had so much mass that he'd only ever seen them shifted with forklifts or cranes.

"You probably have a lot of questions." The youth nearly jumped out of his skin when the blond appeared at his side without warning.

"I… yeah, tons." Taking a deep breath, he asked probably the most obvious thing. "Are- are you all the same sub-species?" There were such sharp differences in appearance.

"Oh, yes. But we're from three different castes, each with its own place in our society's structure." The lean man smiled. "Richard and Eileen are Alphas; the low-light shine in their eyes puts them in the Prime designation, which has produced our leaders almost from the time it first appeared. Marcus and Jack represent the two phenotypes of the Betas, and I am an Omega." Then he sighed, shoulders slumping marginally. "We are currently the only Furyan Pack we know of."

"Oh." That was _so_ very not good. And from the way the blond spoke, there had been other 'castes' in their culture. "So why add me? I'm not Furyan, as far as I know."

"Anyone who becomes a Furyan's mate is considered one of us, regardless of genetics." A quick grin flashed across his face.

And the words brought Luna's thoughts to a sudden, screeching halt. _Mates?_ Him and Jack? He could feel his face warm as he blushed.

 _~She_ _ **is**_ _rather attractive.~_ And ever since they'd checked the weather—since he had played with her chocolate curls without meaning to—he'd been resisting an urge to just _touch_ the young woman. Given her reaction at the time, he had inferred that the physical contact was unwelcome. On the other hand, she kept glancing at him at the oddest times.

"Just so you know," the paler man added quietly, "her life before meeting Richard and Eileen was… bad." Luna met his eyes, hoping the older man could figure out the question he _didn't_ want to voice. "She escaped it by herself at twelve and promptly ran into our Alphas."

 _~Dear Lord…~_ The youth swallowed nervously. _~Lord, help me to go about courting her the_ _ **right**_ _way.~_ If his prayer would be heard, let alone answered, he didn't know.

"I'm not sure we should fuck around with th' Necros, babe." Rick frowned at me in worry. "I say we just track down an' retrieve th' _Den_ , then be on our merry." Thinking furiously, I tried to find the words to describe the faint signals I was getting from my Foresight.

"It's… there's somethin' about Vaako that's _important_." My mate grunted. "You said it yourself; he was different from th' rest of 'em. I think we need t' find out _why_ , if nothin' else."

"Assignments that took him away from the fleet for extended periods never bothered him the way they did others," Niklas threw in. "That's very unusual; Necromongers tend to be highly social. Plotting and backstabbing may be hostile, but they are still social behaviors."

"An' Vaako's a good guy." My sister rolled her eyes. "He's able t' hide it, mostly, but that's just self-preservation." A long pause ensued.

"Maybe he's one of you, but doesn't know it." The softly-spoken words drew my eyes to the newest member of our Pack. Luna had claimed a spot on the couch next to Jack, close enough to touch her without reaching but still giving her some personal space. The young man shrugged. "He's the only one of them who's been spared from your contempt."

That made an odd kind of sense.

"Fine," my lover conceded grouchily. "We get our ship, pay Vaako a _quick an' quiet_ visit, then get th' hell away from 'em." He seemed to sink deeper into his seat—a well-padded armchair—as his arms folded across his chest. "Fuckin' Alpha instincts."

"Bullshit," the brunette fired back. "You _like_ bein' in charge an' leadin' people, as long as they're not tryin' t' kill you." The two older males chuckled, ignoring the mock glare they got from Rick.

"They're probably only now approaching the spatial anomaly they call the Threshold," Niklas offered. "I may not know where Furya is, but memorizing _those_ coordinates is part of a Purifier's training."

With guidance from our Omega, Jackie an' Marcus dock with th' Basilica undetected. Th' damn 'Threshold' is a pretty spectacular formation, I gotta admit, but still…

My woman an' I creep through th' Necro flagship durin' its night cycle t' reduce chance encounters, makin' our way t' th' rooms we used before shit went down. They've been stripped of most of th' furniture, an' Krone's on his knees in front of th' viewport wearin' some weird shit.

"This is the day to end all days," he mutters. "See, here I am and here we are at the Threshold of the Underverse…" Eileen nods t' me as what I think is a concubine pours water into a goblet. Th' scarred bastard's th' one who actually marooned me; it's gonna feel good t' get some revenge by interrogatin' him.

Th' concubine gasps as we emerge from th' shadows, an' I press th' tip of a blade against Krone's unprotected spine. He goes silent an' _very_ still.

"Vaako." Th' name is an' isn't a question.

"You are still alive." Idiot's surprised by that, obviously.

"All of us are," my mate murmurs.

"Tell me where." I'm gettin' sick of people underestimatin' me.

"He is no longer among us," th' bastard answers.

 _~What th' fuck is_ _ **that**_ _supposed t' mean?~_ I press harder, blood wellin' up as th' dagger pierces skin.

"Tell me, an' I'll kill him first."

"You misunderstand." Krone's startin' t' panic. "Vaako is a decent man who meant to honor his word. Even with you, strangely. I don't care about Furya. I don't care what the pact was between you and him." I feel my lip curl in a sneer as th' Necro admits his treachery. "This faith cannot have a misbeliever or a kind heart leading it, and I have done what I have done to ensure—"

A bit more pressure cuts him off for good. Fuckin' zealot.

"Too many words." Th' concubine makes an anxious sound, an' I turn toward her an' Eileen.

Th' woman's not wearin' much besides a strategically-draped piece of burnt velvet that barely qualifies as 'decent'. She's lookin' off t' her left, too, at nothin' at all. My lover reaches over, gently turnin' her head with a hand on her chin.

 _~Shoulda tortured him.~_ Th' left side of th' concubine's face has been marred by archin' lines, th' scars new enough that they're still red an' irritated; Krone had marked her as his, permanently.

"Never lie to us, and we'll never hurt you," Eileen assures her, an' a spark lights in th' Necro woman's eyes.

"One-word answer." My growl draws her focus. "Is Vaako alive or dead?" She gives me a little shark-like smile.

"Both."

 _~What th'_ _ **fuck**_ _is_ _ **that**_ _supposed t' mean?~_ I think again.

For some reason, th' memory of Vaako whisperin' hits me.

 _"Transcendence."_

Jack breathed a sigh of relief when her sister and Rick returned to the _Eyrie_ unharmed. Their thunderous expressions weren't encouraging, though. And as they explained what they'd learned, she understood their frustration.

"So what th' fuck is 'both' supposed t' mean?" Eileen directed the question at Niklas, of course.

"There are a few different situations that might fit." The blond sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his hands. "Becoming Lord Marshal by undergoing the pilgrimage over the Threshold comes to mind first, given our location. But that wouldn't be true if he was the one Krone called 'a kind heart.' Alternatively, he could have been subjected to the process which creates the Quasi-Dead."

Everyone but Luna shuddered; so far, he'd only learned a few general things about Necromongers.

"He would need to have unusual abilities to be a candidate for that transformation. And if he _is_ Furyan, there's no telling what he would actually become. Certainly not what they intended."

"You can lead us t' wherever they'd keep him, if that's th' case, then?"

"Of course." Then the Omega cocked his head. "Congratulations, by the way."

"For what?" Rick asked cautiously. Marcus frowned, looking puzzled.

"You haven't noticed that Eileen's scent has changed?"

It took a moment for Jack to connect the dots as her sister began to swear. The convict only looked more confused.

"Rick…" The brunette waited until she knew she had his attention. "We haven't seen Dr. Ayres since before Helion."

Blood drained from her Alpha's face as the implications hit him. Without looking, he hooked an arm around Eileen's waist, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping himself around her. The blonde's string of invective didn't even hiccup.

"Oh, damn," he said, his voice faint. "Oh, damn."


End file.
